


SUNSHINE!

by frustratrish



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-17 07:41:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 46,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frustratrish/pseuds/frustratrish
Summary: Alice Hunt wants nothing to do with Billy Butcher’s shit. But he keeps on coming back and she might just shoot him.





	1. Chapter 1

❛good morning ,**sunshine** _!_❜

❛i'm gonna shoot you _!_❜


	2. A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! This is my take on the new Amazon Series “The Boys” and you could say I’m enjoying the hell out of it. 
> 
> Send sum kudos, comment, and luuuvvv!!! :—))

**I'VE ALWAYS LOVED THE BRIGHT SUNNY DAY.**

Alright, maybe that's bold of me to say when it's ninety degrees outside and I was sweating like a pig, my coffee made everything a million times hotter, and wearing a full corporate suit isn't the best way to spend it altogether. Nevertheless, the sun is shining and everything feels... _better_. It was warm and windy, everything seemed full of energy at this time of morning there was almost an unmistaken smile etched on my damn face. It was weird, smiling to strangers like this—but let me have my fun, _alright_?

This is the only day not one _asshole_ had managed to ruin my day.

I crossed the street after buying a sandwich from a stand, my eyes immediately glued at the glistening sign of **VOUGHT** at the very top of this one building that I almost swear could outshine and outstood around it. It was so high, full of people, full of paparazzi's it was annoying and amusing all at the same time. Heaven knows how long they actually dedicate their time for a few stolen photos that wouldn't even make it front page.

"Alice! I've been looking all over for you!" _Please, dear Lord, not today. Not Ashley's voice. I was just imagining_— "Alice! Where were you? Ms. Stillwell's all over me for that new recruit I'm honestly going to lose my shit!" The girl came strutting in front of me, her brown curls bouncing as she took the three flight of steps down and right in front of me by the grassy pavement taking my time away from the so-called _assholes_. "Alice—"

"No. She is not my problem, Ashley. I have my own shit to deal with, you have yours." I say before she could begin her whole litany about having her toes running around wherever half of the team goes while I took the slightly sane version of the rest. She wanted me to take over the new recruit but I wasn't having none of that. I can't take some rookie who'll probably burn my ass on her first week.

"Just her first week, just after this whole production over Homelander and Maeve. After that, I promise I won't ask you for any favors!" Her wide eyes and pleading mouth didn't even move me for a bit, for one thing, it looked _batshit_ crazy, but I hated it. And it's been a whole month of her asking me that question. I thought she was going to quit after—but here she was. "Come on, Alice. Just this once. I know—I know we hate each other." **Understatement of the year.** "And I know we don't always see eye to eye... but I'll owe you."

_What the hell._ "Don't say I don't do _shit_ for you—" The girl almost jumped in and hugged me but I took a step back and laid my hands. "No hugging or I'll change my mind!" Ashley was gleeful to say the least, first I've seen her without the smug face I felt the relief over it. "You owe me!"

"I know!" She crosses the same street as I do, giving me one last grin before turning her head towards the stand and falling in line. I shook my head about, finally having the alone time I've been craving for a while now, sitting down on the pavement near the trees where there were less people also having their breaks and finally enjoying the cold sandwich forgotten in my hand.

_First bite, fucking ace._ "You have a stupid smile on your face."

"Excuse me—" I held my tongue. It's as if it's been cut off, my throat went dry all of a sudden, and I found myself unable to move. A mixture of emotion passing through my nerves miles per hour it was impossible to point out what I feel. I looked up, the figure covering the sun that it made it slightly darker for me when our eyes met.

Anger? Loathing? _Oh_, bewilderment and surprise. Fuming mad, _maybe_. "What? Cat got your tongue?" The audacity to talk to me in broad daylight right in front of the company I work in where there's probably a hundred guards ready and in aim had there been disturbance like this was _palpable_.

"You know? I could kill you using what I have in me right now. Yes, I'm talking about the sandwich. I could kill you with this and you don't even wanna know how." The man laugh, heartily at that it irritated my ear so much I wanted to make him stop, but I held myself. Even if my fingernails are burying on my palm for holding back so much. "Do have a reason why you're in front of me right now before I do that."

He sat beside me, casually so that it gathered not one attention from anyone around us. "Tha' how you welcome your friends, _eh_?" A smile crept up my lips it was definitely not from gladness.

"You have the nerve to call yourself a _friend_?" I took a bite out of the sandwich before I slam it on his face and probably kill him by repeatedly slamming it that will eventually lead into his untimely death. "Right after what you did to me?" I couldn't help but raise my voice, higher than what I imagine I'd be doing when I meet him again. I just couldn't stop myself from getting so... worked up. Not with a smug smirk he's displaying that makes me want to finish it off right then and there.

"You fell for your own trap, _Alicia_—"

"Ha, no, no, **shut up.**" Calm down, Alice. Breathe. Not here. Not right now. "Leave now, _Billy Butcher._ Leave before I make you regret comin' here." The smile fell out of his face soon as he might have noticed how my voice fell grim. I was not even kidding anymore. Not only did I lost my appetite, I feel like—raging.

"It's a nice life." _What_? "Must be why you stayed with **VOUGHT**, innit? Gave you load of bucks to keep their shit even if you knew—you knew before all o' this, we were working together to take them down!" His hush whisper started getting higher that I knew we were still the same. We still couldn't stand each other. Not before, not now. Not on times like this.

"Yes, Butcher. _We_ worked hard on this." I kept looking away from him for the hopes of keeping my nerves at bay but he was making it so hard. "_I_ worked hard to infiltrate **VOUGHT**. _I_ worked hard to get their secrets, to give us something that'll lead them to _fucking_ prison. But—oh, what did you do? You left, Billy. You left me in the _fucking_ field with nothing after the Feds burned me, you left me to conquer the shit all by myself and you expect me to welcome you with open arms? After being gone after two _fucking_ years?" I almost threw the sandwich away if he hadn't caught it before it reached the ground and crumpled the paper to cover it. I wanted to hit him, so bad he'd lose a couple of teeth but I couldn't. Not here. "I lost my _real_ job because of what we did." I finally spared him a glance, one short glance that I didn't even have it in me to hide what I was feeling.

Betrayed, mostly. Disappointed and—and _sad_. "Alice," He called but I stopped him with my hands, I don't wanna hear it. I don't wanna hear him use that voice to plead with me, and then leave me to shit after my use ran out.

"Don't shit me about, Butcher. I know why you're here. I know why you're back again. Don't think for a second I'm blind about your _plans_." We stared at each other, maybe a minute—or two, before I stood up on my heel and turned. I'm done.

"Alice—listen to me." I stopped, not daring to look for another second as I hear shuffling from behind me. "It's been two years. You have to stop pretending that—you want this." Who the hell does he think he is to tell me what I feel? "You used to despise them! You hated their _fuckin_' guts. Now what? You're covering for their _fuckin_' ass just 'cause I left?"

"Oh, don't make this about you, _you asshole_—"

"I—I didn't mean to leave you, _Alicia_." Stop, Butcher. "Work with me."

"Really?! You're asking me that? **Right now**?!"

"Work with me again. No secrets, no lies. None o' that shit. No leaving outta blue. I swear to my _fuckin_' life."

_I'm not falling for it. I'm not falling for it. I'm not falling for it. _"Tell me then, Butcher. Why do you need me?"

"I need my partner, **_sunshine_**."

"_Piss off!"_


	3. B

**I'M LOSING MY MIND.**

The more I think about that smug _son of a bitch_, the more I could hear his voice reverberating in my ears. Not even after an hour later, not even three hours later while I'm holed in my hub, completely off of reality while staring ahead at my computer. I couldn't even form a decent conversation to the tech guys who came by, the marketing idiots who proposed something that I couldn't understand and shooed them in an instant, hell, I didn't even notice Translucent's presence beeping on my phone if he hadn't purposely showed his head floating mid-air.

"What's that bothering you, huh?" My eyes flickered to his visible face as I wager he's now sitting buckass naked on my table. _Disgusting!_

"First, let's practice not being closer to me when you're naked. Secondly, it's none of your business." Translucent laughed like an asshole I was starting to think today is really not my day at all. "What?!"

"I know you better than anyone else here does, Alice." It's one thing he's a father, he could perfectly see through my bullshit easily, but he was also a slightly good friend—if it hadn't for his hobby of going into places he _shouldn't_. "I won't ask you what it is but at least don't let it ruin your day, a'ight? You got so much more to think about—think about Noir's demands about the foundation, that man loves tea so much. I bet he's still waiting for the next visit."

"You know, I'm rather curious about your closeness with Noir. I couldn't even get a word out of him and I've been working here for years." He smirked.

"I guess I've got my charm?" I rolled my eyes, seeing him move away from my hub by his eerily floating head.

"Yes, might as well don't overuse that. Next time I hear my phone beep in the bathroom, you'll regret it." Translucent merely chuckled as he went away, successfully disturbing my mind into doing work and willing my mind to forget the man I met this morning. I'm okay, I'll be okay.

_I'll forget about it._

I was so buried in paperwork about the new recruit, another girl who the team would probably whore over it became my responsibility now to keep that from happening. I nearly thought they'll get a man after Lamplighter this time but then again—Maeve couldn't be the only girl in the group anymore. I hear the marketing guys tell me that we're lacking in women power, it was absurd hearing that even if I was trying to shoo them away. It would've gone easily by me if they—meant it. Not just because of crowd approval.

Next I heard, there was someone clearing a throat behind me that made me look exasperatedly, "Wha—"

"Alice? We need you in the boardroom, now."

"_Homelander_! Wait—what is it?" The man who stood almost six foot tall towered over me when I stood, carrying my clipboard together with all the effects I bring with me on the office as I follow after him. He seemed—bothered at most it was bothering me all the same too. This man was so casual to act like this. "Trouble?" He side-eyed me and if I blinked, I would've missed the small nod he did.

Nevertheless, I was in quick strides behind his large steps until the door slid open for us, revealing a truly _fucked up_ sight in front of me. "Alice, I'm so glad you could join us." _I'm fucking not, Ms. Stillwell!_

"Wh—at?" I was almost out of breath to say the least. A-Train—he, he was covered in what seemed like red goo, and _blood_. Like it was mashed altogether in his body and face and I couldn't even point out what to think or where to begin. Inside the room, Ms. Stillwell sat at Homelander's chair while A on the other side, and Homelander by the window. It was just right for me to come here because—well, I handle A-Train... "Excuse my language but what the _fuck_ just happened, A?" He couldn't look at me while he casually sat like that it was _disturbing_.

"Ran into someone." His short reply couldn't have been nothing if his abilities didn't lie in _literally_ running.

"To make the matters short, A-Train ran into some girl who, well, exploded into bits by mere force." _Oh, god._

"The girl was one step over the curb from where I ran. It's really not my fault." _Excuse me?_ "The sidewalk was large enough for the both of them! She could've stayed there!" I'm speechless.

"There's a witness and as of now, he's being tended together with his girlfriend's remains—the _arms_." Madelyn was pissing me off just as much as A-Train right now my hands feel cold from—anger.

_"You fell for your own trap, Alicia." Stop entering my mind, Butcher._

"We should deal with this quietly." Homelander suggested it was an understatement that I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I knew about the _fucked ups._ I've—learned to live with that. To help them hide it, to help them keep it shut and never expose them even if my main goal of entering this _shithole_ is to take them down. But I never did when I was left to rot in my new persona. I forgot about how horrific—how terrifying it truly was. "Alice, you need to coordinate with the lawyer and well, pay the boyfriend to keep quiet, right?" He turned with a small smile on his face I almost instinctively step back.

_"You used to despise them! You hated their fuckin' guts!" Shut up, Butcher!_

"And as for A-Train, I need you to set up a public apology that'll flash his damn face everywhere." My eyes flickered to A and he was... just there. Like he couldn't wait to get it over with. How could he act so when he's literally covered with—with flesh and blood of the one he accidentally killed?!

_How did I forget?_ "And get the marketing guys, I need them to tell a whole story of how it happened in his eyes." Madelyn stood up at that it shook me off my daze. _What the hell happened to me? Was I that so blinded with betrayal that I kept up with this shit?! _"Got that, Ms. Hunt?"

"Y-Yes, Ms. Stillwell." I pursed my lips, turning to A-Train and bobbing my head when he looked. "Follow me outside." It took raising my eyebrows to make him finally move that we went out, breathing heavily through my nose only to smell that musty irony smell that caused a bile to surge on my throat. "_What the fuck_, A-Train?!" I finally said after the door slid close and he almost jumped his feet. I may have said that—in a very unladylike way.

"What?!" He spat that I pushed myself to turn to him and point my index finger. _Fuck this. Fuck him._

"Take a _fucking_ bath and get back to me all scrubbed and clean. If I smell but a whiff of blood, I will have you scrub it again with a steelbrush." He looked taken aback at most because I never—never acted this way in my life in front of them but—but I couldn't help it.

My resolution was breaking, I could feel it. I could feel how disgusted I was with standing here, with A-Train's bloodied figure as he took a step back and ran, with—with how my clipboard displayed all of my responsibility. I was sticking up to this like a puppet on a string, going along with their _shit_ like I've truly lost my mind.

I ran, far back until the Supe's bathroom where it was the nearest before I quickly spilled all my morning breakfast in one go at a cubicle. I vomited away the smell of someone's blood, the quick intake of realization, and my own awful self in one go before I went out and face myself on the mirror.

_Alice Hunt_, a burned FBI agent who had nothing else to live for after she was caught working with a man she shouldn't in an unsanctioned mission. _Alice Hunt_, the fool who believed after losing everything, that working with **VOUGHT** was her one final chance at life. Who sucked up all the terrible things they did. The stories she tuned out her mind, the rumors she took down even if it was the mere truth.

_Alice Hunt_ is a _fucking_ fool.

"You know better than I do that you shouldn't let them see you look like _shit_." A voice spoke, a figure that entered the room wearing a skimpy superhero outfit that's supposed to tell she was confident and strong.

"Maeve." She turned to the mirror, retouching her lipstick without so much as a glance at me.

"I heard about A-Train." My jaw clenched, I couldn't bring myself about and think of the blood—of the _remains_ as what Madelyn had said. Of his nonchalant attitude after accidentally killing someone in some sort of freak _accident_. To think I was so used in seeing blood, in killing ruthlessly but this feels—different. Everything feels different now that I look back on it. I wonder... why? "I thought you're well used to their _shit_, what happened to you?"

"Shock." I answered truthfully that stopped her from fixing her hair and finally turned to me.

"You're bound to be." She sighed, "You're too much of a stone cold bitch if that didn't freak you."


	4. C

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a day just for u!!! Send sum kudooos & comments!

**"PLEASE DON'T ASK ME ABOUT IT ANYMORE."**

I stated flatly to the marketing guys that kept asking me if A-Train really does look like he'd shot a movie with a murder scene yesterday. Going in all with flesh and blood like some kind of gory film he's supposed to be starring in. I try to get it out of my mind for as much as I can before I leave it to them and found myself going out of the building with a cigarette on hand while trying to stay away from the media all setting up their equipment outside.

This was supposed to be the day wherein the new recruit comes and I wasn't even that ready to conquer it. The events yesterday put a mark on my determination to serve this—this atrocity. This clusterfuck of supes who had nothing else to do than fuck up and make us clean it. It all rain down on me I doubt I even had an hour of sleep last night.

The horrors of it are keeping me up.

One, two, and a half cigarette later, I found myself going back inside the building to be met by Ashley who seemed like she was going to explode any minute now. "Where were you! She's fifteen minutes out, you need to be on the carpet by then!" I snorted.

"Don't tell me what to do." I snatched the clipboard from her hands and spared her a glance before going my way to the hub, have the papers needed with me and decided to get on with it then. I didn't know why I was continuing this at all, maybe it became the habit, you know? Two years of following around on orders, getting so used to the nine-to-five it was hard to stray away from it no matter how much my muscles ached on doing so. Doing something so—beyond what I expected from my own self.

But whatever, I still did it. I went outside the main entrance, found many screaming fans I hadn't even noticed while smoking a while ago, and brought my feet to walk in the middle of the walkway all while they screamed and cheered. I was slightly envious of them, of being void by the truth their eyes will never choose to believe. The nightmares of it all... "In position." I mumbled through my earpiece that I could hear Ashley and Ms. Stillwell talking.

_"Be nice today, Ms. Hunt."_ Madelyn uttered playfully I almost rolled my eyes if it hadn't for the cameras around me. People knew me somehow being the one behind the Supes at their interviews, controlling the crowd every once in a while, doing the dirty work sometimes. That kind of earned me a few fans for some reason. _"Don't surprise her too much, alright?"_ Madelyn only said that because she knew how much I never allow myself to get fucked by any Supes around me—that and I was a little heated today. Maybe they all noticed.

A minute later, a black car rolled at the end of the carpet that I walk near and soon as the door opened, an innocent woman came out of the view looking too stunned for her own good I almost shouted for her to run back. Go back to where she came from and don't come here. This is not where her dreams are made of. "Hello! I'm Alice Hunt, director of talent relations. Welcome to New York." Pull up the best smile I can as I shake her and her mother's hand. "Follow me," I commanded and waited for them to catch up before walking again.

"So, uh, are all these people here for me?" She asked timidly her welfare concerned me greatly. 

"Yes, they are. Smile, Ms. January. Wouldn't want to look all sad on the front page, won't you?" She acted so surprised I had to bobbed my head again so we could continue walking.

_"Mom, I'm so excited!" _I hear the girl whispered that it struck on my chest just how much of a truth she's going to be facing as soon as she enters this shithole.

The auditorium was huge if I was being humble, but it really is big. It's where all the grand reveals, meetings, and public apologies happen. I've stepped on this place a couple of times I was thankful so, it eluded me from the gruesome possibility of standing for far too long my feet would get buried in the pavement. Today, though, it's one of the days and I had to suck it up.

"You're doing really well, by the way, so far." Ashley voiced out soon as she sees the new Supe I'd prefer hiding in a closet never to be seen again. She's far too vulnerable to join this hell fest.

"I haven't done anything yet." And that's how it works.

_"Yeah, exactly. You're already two-and-a-half points with the Midwesterners..."_ I flushed out my coworker's voice as I turned near the buffet table and grabbed myself a cup of coffee, downing and feeling the warmness lining through my throat in a much-needed fashion.

"What's wrong with you today?" My eyes turned into a man wearing latex green overalls, shaping up his muscles and _butt_ perfectly **but **it made a small vexing sound of fabric rubbing together it irked my ear to the point of me wanting to propose a change for his suit for the better of my sanity. Fans wouldn't love that at all, but I sure would.

"What's wrong with me today?" I repeated earning a curious stare my eyes didn't fail to pick up. 

"Well, you're not being very talkative than you usually are, no Alice voice blaring anywhere—and oh, heard from Ashley you're supposed to be taking care of the new girl." The smirk on his lip was clear signs of amusement towards the girl it was troublesome to look at.

"It's her work, not mine. And I needed a goddamn break." I breathed out, my emotions and mental capacity going haywire it was even hard for my own self to understand what's going on. "If I'm not wrong, it's near your speech. Wouldn't wanna disappoint your fans out there, don't you?" Deep sighed, leaning closer to me and laying his gloved arms on my shoulder, making me face him as he stared me down like that. I'm not even that small but he looked taller than me. _Damn that superhero genes._

"Chill the fuck out, alright? I miss your voice." He winked, leaving me dumbfounded and lost at best before I recovered and drank the coffee all the way through as if it didn't burn my tongue. He's such a sweet talker but behind closed doors? I'm thoroughly disgusted with who he really is.

Before I could even resume whatever work I have left, I walk by the loo to refresh myself and if I was any dumber, I wouldn't notice footsteps following rather close to me. The door was shut behind me that any sane person wouldn't do because it's a one-person fucking bathroom only. My hands gripped tightly on the only thing I'm holding, a pen. Well, a pen could actually kill anyone anywhere with ease. "Wrong strategy." My hands were quick enough to spin around and target the neck when my wrist was gripped tightly, my shoulders pushed right into the wall, and a face so satisfied and proud it took me my all not to bury the pen in his body.

"Aren't ya just a little feisty thing?" His smile brought me back years ago when he used to do so whenever he plans many fucked up things. One that he's probably doing right now.

"You're really making me kill you, huh? Are you really that bored with your life?" His grip on my wrist loosens, though his hands remained hovering down my arms, to my waist, all the same pushing me back to the wall even harder. He was being difficult right now and the comfort room isn't even that big to accompany us. Much less his big frame that towered over me more than Deep could ever.

"Not anymore, **_sunshine_**." His head bobbed to the side he looked really—really evil.

"I wouldn't ask how you got in here but why? What's going on in that little _fucked_ up brain of yours now?" My mouth spat the curse a little too harsh it reminded me of who I was before this—before **VOUGHT**.

"Well, _love_." His grip on my waist I could almost feel on my own skin from the thin fabric. It's disturbing, _confusing_, and very _fucking_ inappropriate but I didn't have it in me to push him away. God knows just how much that would make a sound and bust our ass in no time. "I suggest you put that shit down the trash and come with me."

"Yeah, what makes you think I'm gonna come with _you_?"

Billy Butcher leaned closer to my face he smelled of mint and burnt cigarette, oh, and probably beer too. "_Because you want this—and because I said so."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love butcher so much wth


	5. D

**"MEET ME DOWNSTAIRS IN TEN."**

Billy Butcher might be in delusion if he thinks I was going to come with him after his little bathroom scene. The man even had the audacity to smile at me so wide he was pretty confident about making me go. But he was certainly _fucking_ with himself if he thinks of me as his dog. I may be tired with this shit, but I wasn't about to join another set of shit that could probably ruin my life the second time around.

"Alice!" Not Ashley again. "You bailed out on me, _fucking bitch!_"

"You really don't want to start this shit with me, Ashley. Not tonight." I'm exhausted and confused having an argument with her would be time-consuming. All I really wanted to do now is to sleep on my damn bed, not get up for work tomorrow, and maybe rot at my flat for the rest of my life. That would be a darn good plan.

"No! You swore you were going to take care of her this week! I thought I could trust you—"

"Ashley, don't." But her wide-eye and stance didn't look like she was about to back-off. And I'm not in the mood to be civil. I can't deal with anything just about now and might I say that I'm slowly losing my mind every minute it took for me to be inside this hell.

"Bitch—" I might have pushed her on the wall harder than I should have but I warned her, it was her fault she didn't listen.

"Listen to me, Ashley." I pushed her back when she so much moved closer, my index finger pointed at her shoulders while I still try my best to contain myself. "First, stop calling me names right at this second or you'll regret it. Second, we're not kids. Third, maybe if you do your job a little less shitty, maybe you'll be able to handle all your supes perfectly. So, I'm gonna go now and you're gonna shut the _fuck_ up. Capish?" She nods, seeing her gulp right after that I nod and went to my way. All getting worked up so hard that my feet dragged me outside towards somewhere so unexpectedly—to Billy Butcher's _fucking_ car.

He was smirking at me from inside his car like he was really proud of this little achievement. _Asshole._

Okay, maybe it was a dumb last-minute decision that I'll probably regret in thirty minutes, but I'm here now, and rather I deal with this shit than _fucking_ **VOUGHT**. "About damn time, love. Thought you're gonna go chicken shit on me." I didn't look at him. I just dropped my bag down to my feet and crossed my arms.

"I'm only coming once. Just this time. And if I don't like it, you disappear from my life and never come back again." I say firmly, negotiating within the capabilities of my sanity that I hear him sigh and chuckle.

"Oh, come on, Alice. You love this—"

"Promise me, Butcher." I shot him a look, one that intends to let him know I really do mean it. I'm only gonna do this once. Just at this second and I do swear that one wrong thing, he's out of my life forever. It's a bit of a fair trade. I'm willing to bet on it.

"Alright, _fine_." He raised both his hands and started the car to my relief.

"Where are we going anyway?" If there's anything that I've learned early on from meeting him, when Billy Butcher smiles, it's almost certainly trouble he's into.

"A Supe _fucked up_ just recently." He began, "You sure as hell know who I'm talking about." I frowned, my eyes darting to his direction while a smirk remained in his lip.

"A-Train." He nodded.

"Ran into some girl, you know the details of that."

"I try not to think about it, _thank you very much_."

"Well, there's another person who would love to do so but shit like that ain't easy to forget. Not when you're still clinging to your girlfriend's hands that isn't attached to her non-existent body anymore." I bit my lip and tried to get the image out of my mind. It was something hearing it descriptively, but it's another thing when you're there, and you saw. That kind of shit will be on your mind forever. "And we're gonna go to him."

"Why are we gonna do that?" Billy Butcher's mind is a strange and fickle thing.

"Oh, come on, **_sunshine_**. Have you forgotten?" I frowned, "You're getting rusty." I backhanded his arms that he laughs and shook his head, "Folks that are done wrong by those little shits gets to serve the best vengeance." He was evil, cunning, and very smart. Those were the things that both bothered me—and amused me about him. But somewhere within the madness of it, did something light up inside me. Something I have forgotten for nearly two years and had missed very dearly.

"Butcher, _you're one son of a bitch_." I grinned, so big while shaking my head and thinking of all the things we've done before. It was something—an adventure my deep core wanted to go for a ride once again.

We reached an electronic shop wherein Butcher parked right in front as I follow after his stride. The bell rang from up above the door, signaling a customer which was us—entering the whole place rounded with television, tech stuff that almost perked up my interest if it hadn't for Butcher bobbing his head to the guy wiping one television. I went the separate way with Butcher, looking at the CCTV row where I think I needed one. I mean—my flat is bugged by **VOUGHT** itself, maybe putting a CCTV of my own could tell me whenever their men deemed it fitting to barge in and do weekly check-ups on my place.

"You interested in CCTV's?" The boyfriend looked at me, a smile on his face that didn't reach his ear. If I had a certain niche in Butcher and I's duo, he would be the brawn and brains, while I'd be the one good with judging behaviors. Any flinch, emotion showed by a normal human reaction, anything suspecting in movements. I will know. That—and I'm also a _con-artist_.

"Yes! I actually am. Because I think my husband is cheating on me." He opened his mouth in a quick reaction that he looked behind him to Butcher checking out nanny cams. "Yep. I think he is." I turned in an instant, a smile creeping up on my face as I check out the row of wires around, the boyfriend turning his attention to Butcher with a clear on his throat.

_So much for cheaters. _"You're interested in nanny cam?" He sounded so confused I almost felt bad about it. "We have a special for that. Um, it's a pretty popular bear. There's cameras in the eyes."

"Tell me, how many cheaters can this bear catch?" His eyes widen that he spun his head on my direction, going back to pretend and read the back of the carton. Butcher is playing the damn game with me. I'm slightly glad things never really... _changed_.

"Uh, I'm sorry?"

"I think my wife is cheating on me and I need to know how many cheaters can these little bears catch?" My eyes flickered towards them, the boyfriend was absolutely confused as he looked at us back and forth.

"I—I don't—I don't think they have statistics for that?" He answered almost unsurely I bit my lower lip to stop myself from laughing.

"Funny that. They sell a billion dollar worth of that shit worldwide. Goes to show you, doesn't it? The bollocks people will believe if you get them scared enough." I sat at the top of the counter, my feet dangling as I let Butcher do the job.

"_Cool... cool, cool._ Um, is there anything I can help you with today or...? Are you guys okay?" That's where I couldn't help but smile, looking down to my feet and genuinely amused by how downright concerned he was. The man is something.

"I'm not gonna piss you about, Hughie. I hear what happened to Robin." The emotion fell out of my face when my mind reverted back to the story. Absolutely—_horrible_.

"I'm—I'm sorry, who are you guys?"

"She wasn't in the street. She was one step off the fucking curb. And you... didn't take the pay-off." I was ashamed of that—the mere fact that I followed orders and coordinated for him to be paid. But I was doing a job so blindly I forgot to be a normal human. A human that never let shit like this slide, ever.

"Yeah. I said, who the hell are you? How do you know that?"

"Name's Butcher. Billy Butcher." Oh, god. Not the FBI stint again. "That my partner right there, Alice Hunt." I waved a hand and if he's confused a while ago? He was much worse now. "Listen, I was thinking that, uh, we should have a little bit of a chat."

Persuasion didn't take too long that I follow behind the two towering figure. My eyes direct into looking for any **VOUGHT** men out there lurking for the poor boyfriend. That damn company had many means to get shit into their hands, most importantly now that a member of the Seven is in great public jeopardy. This man not signing the NDA was smart—but also in danger. "You guys are Fed's?" My jaw clenched, alright, _not anymore. _But this was the sketch, we gotta stick to the sketch.

"Got that right, Hughie." He looked at me, eyes searching for any deceiving emotion but he was not gonna see that through me.

"You don't sound like a Fed." I snorted. Hell, Butcher doesn't even look utterly believable with his undeniable aura passable as a brute gangster handling the black market with a giant dog behind him—talking about dogs, where was his dog?!

"What? I can't immigrate? There's a giant green slapper with her ass in the harbor that says different." Oh, man. Butcher and his analogies.

"You don't really look like one either."

"We're in our little disguises." I shrugged, thinking just how ridiculous I look like wearing a corporate dress claiming I'm a Fed. I was, but the dress was not convincing enough.

"No? What do I look like?"

"Like you're starring in a porn version of The Matrix." I laughed, ugly laugh so hard it caught the attention of a passerby and Butcher who looked at me like he wanted to kill me for laughing.

"Well, it's all right there in black and white."

"Okay. Uh, what exactly can I do for you guys?"

"No, you got it all wrong, Hughie. It's what I can do for you." He really is such a good talker. Like, he could make people agree with him no matter what, have matters laid out perfectly in his hands as his mouth does most of the work. Maybe that's also the reason why I'm here right now. Fell right into the trap. "You see, you ain't alone, son. It happens a lot more than you think. Supes lose hundreds of people each year to collateral damage." The brute turned to me which I cowered down and looked away from.

It was the job. I couldn't blame anyone but my own. "No. Come on, that'd be all over the news. People would be screaming bloody murder." No, they won't. Money almost always does the job. Control of the media, proper PR control, cost of damage in hindsight. Everything that money could solve, will be solved.

"Yeah, look, there might be the odd mention of it now and again, like with Robin, but there's a fuck-sight more that happens that just gets swept right under the rug." More than anyone could imagine.

"Why?"

"Look around you, Hughie." I say, my eyes sweeping around me it almost rendered me deaf from anything but my own breathing. Billboard signs, interviews, merchandising. Movies, even damn music. Everywhere, anywhere, any chance they get.

Butcher's voice brought me back as he taps on my shoulder. Giving me the look of asking if I was okay—_I wasn't_. "But the main reason that you won't hear about it is 'cause the public don't want to know about it." It was the opportunist leading the blind. Round and round in circles. "People love that cozy feeling that Supes give them. Some golden cunt to swoop out of the sky and save the day so you don't got to do it yourself. But if you knew half the shit that they get up to..." Most disgusting shit to this day forward.

"You will never believe it." I say as Butcher clicks his tongue and shook his head.

"_Fuckin' diabolical._" Straight up. "But then... that's where me and my partner comes in." He curtsied, followed by me who shrugged as I face Hughie.

"To do what?"

"Spank the bastards when they get out of line." Alright, maybe spanking isn't something I'd get on to—but that's a perfect analogy.

"How do you spank a Supe?" _Oh, god_.

"Follow us." I bobbed my head and turned together with Butcher.

"Uh, where?"

"You'll love it."

"Hmm, not likely. Uh, listen. I think this is good; I'm good. Thank you for an extremely weird conversation, but, uh, I don't want to go to a second location with you two. Thank you!" I nudged Butcher and let him do the work. He was very great at convincing and he could do it perfectly without me.

Not merely a minute later, my partner turned to me with a small smirk on his damn face as we sauntered about on the sidewalk, "You know what I hate about my _husband?_" He scoffed, "He's so goddamn confident. I bet he'll be too confident on signing the divorce papers just to prove his little stunt."

"My _wife_ lacks trust. I think she should trust me more and believe I can do shit perfectly, _you're welcome_." I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"I've always trusted that _asshole_."_ Always did._


	6. E

**"KEEP UP, SUNSHINE** **!** **"**

"Well, you wear these damn heels and we'll see." _Alright_, my heels weren't made for long walks. Not definitely for occasions like this, and my dress doesn't even help the way how New York felt so fucking cold at this time of day. It's definitely a pain in the ass being here but I kept going, I kept going because I knew—I was starting to love it again. And it was abso-_fucking_-lutely foolish for me to do so.

"Where are we?" Hughie caught up with us, running behind that I fail to realize Butcher had stopped walking when my face collapsed at his back. I took a step back, rubbing my nose in the process and frowning, about to tell him why the hell he stopped when he turned to me with a frown.

"You can't be seen here." I looked up by then, dumbly realizing that I was at the Supe's fucking den I wished never to step foot again after the Translucent incident where he figured he'd abandoned his interview to—to do shit in here. I'm quite known to be a **VOUGHT** associate and if they saw me with Hughie and Butcher—well, that is _fucking_ trouble itself.

"Time for me to go home, innit?" I say reasonably, although a part of my brain didn't like the sound of it very much. But it was the right thing to do that I started walking away on my damn heels.

"Nope. You ain't goin' anywhere, **_sunshine_**." His hands grasp my arm, seeing him rounding his coat on my shoulders that fell down up to my ankle, revealing his fancy tropical button down which I would laugh at if my feet situation isn't bothering me. "Look down." I nod, seeing him turn around as we finally descended the steps but he turned again, in a swift manner, pulling down my perfectly kept bun, my blonde hair falling to my face that he finally smiled.

"Why can't your _wife_ be seen here?" Oh, _shit_. First with the _wife_ thing, and second, well, I'm a talent relations director. He will bust my ass for it.

"W—Well, I have a reputation to uphold. So, let's go. And don't talk, alright? Not with anyone." Hughie nodded, turning to Butcher who nodded and walked near the door, slamming it with his fist three times before the hatch slid open.

"Harry! Got your message. Thank you for being an upstanding citizen." He was so sarcastic up to the brim.

"You know this is _fucking_ police brutality, man. You know what they'll do to me, they catch me letting you in?"

"Not half of what I'll do if you don't." It slid back and sounded as though he was already unlocking the door. Man, he really had a way in a person's heart. _One filled with threats and guns._

"Did he just say he's police?" Hughie glanced me at curiously that I smiled confidently.

"Same thing. Same titles. Same positions. _Potato fuckin' po-ta-toh_, right?" I shrugged, sounding believable enough that the boy hummed.

The door drew wide open that I started to look down on my aching feet, just slightly upwards where I could still be wary of the surroundings. Started hearing the—_moans_, and not the good kind of it either. This place was absolute hell on earth. The first time I wandered about on this place, it's least to say that I couldn't look at the familiar Supes in the same way again. "_Holy shit._" Uh-huh.

"This is the only place where the Supes can scratch their filthy little itch without the paps taking snaps." And certainly so that they do it a tad bit much.

"Wait—that's Ezekiel!" Hughie whispered as we stopped to our steps and saw while looking down, a stretching body up to the other side filling me with dread and disgust I pulled Butcher's shirt to get us away of it. Tuning out their smart comments, making me regret even coming inside.

We finally reached the backroom where I drew my head back, brushing my hair backward while my eyes roam around the place. Machinery not up to my knowledge and a screen that the previous man at the door was showing to Butcher. I stood beside Hughie as he crosses his arms, sparing me a glance one—_nope_, two times before I sighed. "What?" I asked, him feigning surprised by the action but I insinuated for him to continue.

"How long are you two _married_?" Alright, I can't keep up with this anymore.

"We're—"

"There—there, stop." Butcher spoke that gathered our attention, a Supe with fitted spandex and glasses that could withstand the velocity of his speed. He was pouring vodkas on a shot casually as my partner pointed at him on the screen.

"Wait—A-Train's... he's here right now?" He shouldn't be.

"Was. This is from last night. Turn it up." The tech guy upped the volume loud as we could hear as we watched the supe I was in-charge of, having another guy sat right beside him with a comment that burned rage in my blood. "_I cannot believe you ran through a bitch."_

"_You want to hear something crazy? I ran so fast through this bitch that I swallowed one of her molars. Like a bug on the fucking freeway."_ Calling him an asshole wasn't fitting enough. He was way worse than that, not evil, he was literally a spawn of dirt and all fucking horrible things. Even that was still an understatement.

"_Dude, that's nasty._" And then, they burst out of laughter. My fist formed so hard my knuckles were white. My other hands nearly pulled up a button on Butcher's coat if he hadn't caught it and shook his head. _Right_. I can't let my emotions seep through. Emotions always _fucked_ people up—not when it's not gonna be used rightly.

"They're laughing. Just... like she's a joke. They're... _fucking_ laughing." Butcher drew closer to the boy. He looked contempt, mad—like he was gonna kill him right then and there.

"So, what are you gonna do about it?"

*

"They're all like that? All of them? Even Homelander?" We sat at a booth in a nearby pub, away from the unsavory events happening at the den. It was quiet, dim, we had drinks, and I was snuggly covered in Butcher's coat that kept me very warm it's making me really sleepy.

"Homelander's the exception. He doesn't drink, doesn't smoke. Man's a saint." I snorted.

"Nearly a saint." It was a discussion for another day but that man, he radiates the secret _asshole_ vibes. The other day with A-Train, he was the one who suggested to get Hughie paid. He was—from Butcher's words, _diabolical_.

"But the rest of them, yeah. Pardon my French, _fuck those fuckers." Mhm_. "Here." Butcher laid down folders and papers of what seemed like something he shouldn't be having. "Have a shufti of that."

"What are these?"

"That's the police log the day that Robin got murdered. Couple of bar fights. A few cars got nicked. But you know what's not in there?" My old partner warranted me a look that I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"No bank alarms going off. No banks got robbed. Not one. _Nada_." I say almost defensively. "A-Train didn't stop two bank robbers." Hughie looked so—broken it kind of rubbed on me all the wrong ways.

"Someone's _fucking_ hiding something."

"Hiding what?"

"That's why we have my partner here. Alice? Care telling us what A-Train was up to that night?" I groaned and laid my back on the chair, looking away the best I can and avoid those looks that made me wanna bury myself on the ground.

"How would she know about it?" _That can't be explain right now, Hughie._

"I don't know what he's up to. I didn't hear anything. Just all the damage control while the marketing guys crafted a believable story of why he's in such a rush." I was ashamed, very. "I don't have any idea why he was running, who he was running from..."

"Or where was he running to?" It was a theory.

"Bingo. Work that out and we'll have the _fucker_. I can smell it."

"Okay. Okay, so um, what can I do to help?"

"Here's what you do. Ring **VOUGHT**, tell 'em you'll take the money, sign the NDA, but only if A-Train's there in person when you do it." That is—a questionable plan.

"Why does A-Train needed to be there?"

"Then they'll take you into The Seven Tower, through security, mate, and then you're gonna plant a bug." I have so many questions about what he's all saying. **A lot.**

"A bug?"

"A bug. And we'll have a little listen. See what's really going on." Hello, Butcher? I'm sitting right beside you. I could get in and out of **VOUGHT** without making everything complicated?

"Okay, let me just... sorry, let me just get this straight. You want me to... you want me to go to Seven Tower by myself, and you want me to plant a bug, like I'm what... like I'm _fuckin_' James Bond?" There are so many things wrong in Butcher's plan I might just give him a wake-up punch.

"Yeah, exactly. You got it."

"You're FBI. If you're FBI, then get a warrant. Why do you even need me?" Exactly! **I'm here!**

"Hughie, Hughie, look, mate, I got a warrant, all right? But that place is firewalled, untappable, and locked up tighter than your mom's knickers. I couldn't get myself in there in a million years." Yeah, that's why I'm here? Why was he leaving me out? "But you, son, you could do it."

"No, no, I can't, okay? You didn't see A-Train covered in—and I'm, what, I'm just supposed to go in there and I'm supposed to shake his hand!? And smile?"

"Yeah." _No!_

"I'm not—do you know who my favorite musician is?" _Wait_—how did it shift to musicians?

"Who?"

"James Taylor. Number two, Simon & Garfunkel. Number three, Billy Joel. Any of those guys, they don't infiltrate." _O...kay?_ "I'm not an infiltrator." _Huh_.

"Hughie, _fucking_ grow a pair. You heard that cunt laughing at your girl."

"No. No. No, I can't. I can't do that." He stood up, almost in panic while panting at the same time. "I'm sorry, I'm just gonna _fuck_ it up, and you're not gonna have your bug... and I'll be dead. I'm not I'm not like you..." And then, he left.

Butcher grunted as I place myself right across him, he seemed to know why I was already frowning but he nodded, gesturing for me to go on about what my problem was. Which was a lot. "Why are you leaving me out, Butcher?" He sighed, crossing his fingers together at the table while at it. "I can do all of those things without putting Hughie in danger. I could bug the place anywhere, anytime. And you know that. So, why?"

"Alice—"

"And don't give me none of that vengeance _bullshit_. We could do this. The two of us. Like before." My voice growing higher by the second that he laid his hands as if calming me down.

"I can't put you again in that position, Alice." My brows knitted, "I can't have you lose your job again."

"W-Wait, is this about it? The conversation we had the other day?" He looked away like he always does whenever he didn't wanna deal with anything. But he's not gonna get away with it. "Butcher, I don't wanna work at **VOUGHT** anymore. I—I was so dumb, so filled with passionate anger that you left me to shit, and—and I stayed working there to..."

"—_feel something,_ I know." I worked at **VOUGHT** because, well, an ex-military without PTSD apparently loved the battlefield so much she craves for it in the normal world. I'm generally and mentally fucked up. "When I cost you your job at the FBI, Alice—I didn't mean to ruin your life that way." _I... know._

"So—what was all of this? Did you ask me to come tonight because—what? Tell me, because I'm incredibly confused about all of this."

"_I need my partner._" He stated, "We need someone to stay inside **VOUGHT**. I need you as much as you think I do. Can't get ya caught now we're in the middle of this _fucking_ thing, ain't we?"

"I'm a con-artist, Billy Butcher."

"It's one thing that I put your real job on the line. _Just not—not your life, _**_sunshine_**_."_


	7. F

**I COULDN'T ENTER VOUGHT THE NEXT DAY.**

Maybe it was because I feel like shit from sleeping late than the usual. Maybe it's because I wanna be out there and away from here for once. Or maybe because **VOUGHT** wasn't thrilling enough anymore. It's a shit dump, awful, and hell all at once. Don't even get me started with the white-collared assholes I've dreaded seeing this time of day.

"Alice! Hi, Ms. Hunt!" The company lawyer passed by me on the hallway holding folders of files that I stopped to my tracks and greeted him with a small fake smile. "Ms. Stillwell is already demanding to get done with A-Train's situation, Mr. Campbell hasn't—" He stopped talking a gestured his finger, fumbling around his pocket to his vibrating phone he deliberately showed to me. "Speaking of the devil." _Hughie was... calling_. Wait—does this mean he's already in? He's _actually_—actually gonna do it?

"_Hello... Uh, he already apologized... Okay, yeah. But, uh Hugh, I'm telling you, the answer's gonna be no."_ He puts the phone down and looked at me a bit gleefully than I would like to see on my already bad morning. "He said he'll sign the contract if A-Train personally apologized to him. What do you think?" _Holy shit. _He really did it. We're really... really doing this.

"Let's take that, Doug. I'll gather up A and you ready your papers. Call them back at noon then, we'll do it at the board room." It was all coming together. This was it.

"Are you sure, Ms. Hunt?" I smiled, as innocently as I can without so much as a hint of amusement.

"Yes, now, let's get to work, shall we?"

_We're back again._

I didn't waste any time soon when I found A-Train on the lounge room playing a video game. His sight enrages me but today, I'm gonna be a polite talent director that handles her Supe better than most of the shitheads around here. That, and trick them out of their wits. "A-Train." I called, a clipboard on hand as my foot tapped on the pavement. He was still playing the game as he hummed. "I need you to privately apologized to Mr. Hughie Campbell, his only demand to sign the contract and get some damn closure on it at once." He looked at me exasperatedly.

"Why do I gotta do that shit? Ain't the public apology enough?"

"A-Train, I'm not asking." I raised my brow, and if he knew better, he'll follow me. No one would absolutely want me to unleash hell. "Now get your _fuckin_' ass out of that bean bag and follow me. We need to head for briefing." I turned, taking a step away from the lounge when I heard not one footstep and the game still continuing. "I _fucking_ said, now!" I pulled the electric cord of the television and he threw the controller, muttering to himself as I smirked and lead him the way.

_That's right, bitch. You don't wanna piss me off._

He followed the way towards Doug's temporary office, making him sit down at the chair as the lawyer explained to him what he's supposed to do. "Don't admit into anything. Try to act a little genuine and straight up, just an apology. After that, you can go. You will not be held to anything as long as you don't answer to any of his questions. Am I clear?" A-Train only nod as my phone vibrated on the pocket, taking a step back from the office and making sure no one's around me before I answer the unknown number calling.

_[Alice, it's Butcher. Hughie's coming right up and if you're gonna show yourself, don't give the kid a hard time. I'll wager he'll panic outta his wits when he sees that stupid supe.]_

"You didn't tell him about me?"

_[Figured he'd get to know it himself, you know? A little bit o' surprise.]_

"Have I said that you're literally an idiot?"

_[Many times, _ ** _sunshine_ ** _.]_

I shook my head after the call ended, a stupid smile on my face as I turned back to the office and sees Doug calling to his phone, might already be telling Hughie to come. The plan was all coming together but I was concerned just how the boy would take it if he sees me, A-Train, and the whole clusterfuck of reality right before his eyes. Would he literally scream? Have a bad panic attack? Would he accidentally reveal who I am? Those were questions that'll be answered the minute he came.

And that didn't last long when hours later, the reception rang up that Hughie's on his way, Doug explaining the last minute notes to A-Train like the child he was, and then, on we went to the board room. "Do it short and clear. And A?" He looked at me from under his glasses I could still see how annoyed he was. _Oh_, how I wanted to punch the lights off of him. "Try to be as human as possible." I flashed a quick smile before the elevator door opened and headed straightly to the room Hughie's already in.

It slid open just as fast as Doug who front lined the whole thing as quick as he can be, "Just to be clear, A-Train's apology isn't an admission of any sort of culpability whatsoever. Do you understand?" He looked at me, confusion written all over his face that it rendered me nervous for a short while before his eyes flickered to A-Train.

Alright, Hughie... _Keep your shit together._ "I'm sorry about what happened to your girlfriend, all right?" _Oh, shit. _He's... panting out loud. O—kay, I'm starting to slightly regret this plan. "Hey, dude, are you okay?" If he passed out, it's gonna be really bad.

"Fine." His—his face shifted into a whole hundred eighty degrees when he offered a handshake to A-Train. "I appreciate the apology. Accidents happen, right? After all, I mean, you were saving the world." _Okay_, that should be enough. If I was Hughie, I'd keep my cool one second and strangle him the next, with the smile he's giving? Yep. That's probably gonna happen if I didn't intervene.

"That's great. Thank you so much. As you know, a crimefighter's work is never done. Douglas here will handle the rest of the paperwork for you, okay? Thank you." I warranted him a proud glance as he looks at me very confusedly, winking right after as I turned to A-Train and nodded to him. "Great work. As always." _Huh_, I'm dripping with sarcasm today.

The end of day's work meant freedom to me so much so that when Butcher texted me they were waiting right outside? I was... there. No hesitation, no other thing that could hinder me from not doing so—and slid myself on the backseat rather gladly. I guess... I'm back? "_Holy shit,_ Alice! I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you there!" Hughie exclaimed that I laugh, leaning in between at the gap and smiling to him.

"I'm proud of you, kid. You did really great out there." He conquered his shit in a pile and did his job pretty great. Not many first times resulted with that.

"Why didn't you guys tell me about it? That you work there?" I turned to the smirking Butcher to my left that he shook his head about and huffed.

"Well, this asshole wanted it to be a surprise. I'm sorry about him." Hughie only laughed as he dipped his head back, seemingly so that he looked so full of adrenaline right now.

"How long were you there?" He asked, curiosity laced in his voice. "Why are you there? Is it like—an infiltration job? Like I did? That's really cool if it is!" He looked like a kid excited to know when Santa's coming down the chimney. It was a refreshing sight.

"Two years. And yeah, it's an infiltration job. But I'm not yet far down on the maze. I still got a lot to figure out." It's the truth. Blackmail is child's play for this Supes and their PR. They could publicly apologize, own up to their crap and people will still love them. Butcher and I wanted something valuable, even before. Something that could ruin not only the Supe—but **VOUGHT** itself.

"That's really cool. Like a while ago, oh, man! I look him right in the eye, and I smile. And that was awesome, man, just getting to stare that asshole down. I get why you dig this job." Slowly, I noticed how Butcher stopped the car in front of the—tech store Hughie was working at. The kid doesn't seem to notice yet when he was so busy marveling about what happened a while ago.

"Yeah, you know, it has its moments, doesn't it?" Butcher shot me a weak smile.

"You were right. _Fuck A-Train. Fuck A-Train. Fuck-fuck The Seven. Fuck all... Seven._" Well, realization hit him like a ten-wheeler truck soon as his head turned and sees we're back in front of the store. "What are we, uh, what are we doing here?" I didn't wanna disappoint him like this.

"Well, you got to go to work, don't you?" Butcher tried explaining reasonably.

"Yeah, but, um, I don't, uh—"

"Well, I mean, that's all I need you for right now, yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean, but I-I can I can help with other stuff, you know? I could—I could be, like, your tech guy. You know? Like, I could be in the van with the thing and, like, you know, '_He's down the hall to the left.'_" I'm so sorry, Hughie.

"Yeah, look, son, I, uh I think it's best that we take it from here. You know what I mean?" It was only right that he didn't join in for much of what we're gonna do. It's right enough that we brought him several anxiety attacks, it's another one to literally drag him to the dirty work and well, get him killed off in a matter of months.

"Yeah, but I-I can I can really help." Hughie looked at me as I could only muster a sigh. _I wanted him to, but it's—not right._

"I know you can help. We got it." The boy exhaled disappointingly that I went out and followed after him, tapping his shoulders encouragingly.

"You'll make a pretty darn good spy, if I'm gonna be honest." I winked that put a small smile on his face. "Take care of yourself, alright?" He nodded as I laid my hands in front, grasping his and shook it. Pulling away right after and sliding myself on the passenger seat next to Butcher.

The engine sputtered soon after he started the car. Ready to leave now, and on to the next step of our long, long journey. "Oh, w—oh, hey, wait." Hughie called, "You ever see an _asshole_ tear up $45K?" Yes. Him. He's the good asshole that tore up a check anyone else would've died having.

"Hughie. You're a good lad."

"You know, Hughie's a pretty valuable character. We might need someone reasonable and sane on our team right now." I say after he pulled away from the store. Butcher only glancing at me for a second before he chuckled.

"Eh, he won't be safe with us. Better he's away from us before he get himself killed."

"Awe, getting sentimental now, are we?" I see him roll his eyes that urged me to laugh. "Come on, Butcher. The kid did good—like _fuckin_' ace. He's not burned by the Feds, not a psychopath brute with evil tendencies, and will balance out the crazy. You know?" Butcher pulled up at an empty highway and turned to look at me.

"So, what are you implyin'? Let the kid join us? Some random lad—"

"Who did your bidding without so much as a physical force involved. No threats. And if we're talking about his vengeance rate, I take it he's over 90% with possibility of still being in reason in times of need." My old partner sighed, "Come on, Butcher. I'm on the inside. I couldn't always be seen with you. You can't be around the company every damn day, and we need someone that'll be a gray area. Not on the nerve of the CIA, not on the leash of **VOUGHT**. So, what's it gonna be?" 

Butcher tapped his index finger above his lip, glanced at me repeatedly while looking all so conflicted. "I trust you, Alice. And I trust your judgements—"

"Okay! Let's go back, now! I had an inkling feeling the kid will jump out of his wits when he found out!" I didn't let him finish, knowing so that he got so much to say to me but couldn't. I knew Butcher, I knew him like the back of my _fuckin_' hand that when he looked at me like that, he smirked and shook his head. "You'll thank me for this."

One second, I was all glad that we got someone on the team less grumpy and not psychotic, the next? The car slammed right in front of the store Hughie's working at. "**Holy fuck!"**


	8. G

**"SORRY ABOUT THE MESS."**

Yes, well, that's the worst thing that could happen, right? "You should _fuck off,_ Hughie." My phone started vibrating like mad on my pocket that when I looked—it was absolutely clear now why there's a reason a television floated mid-air, and an invisible figure got thrown out a couple of shelves away from where it was previously.

I tended to Hughie soon as Butcher started walking closer, a little doubt I have in me that he could take _Translucent_ arm to arm when the man literally could withstand any force. "Hughie, I need you to get out of here right now. Alright? Your head is bleeding, you're in shock but it'll go away soon. I just need you to stand up, and **go**." I hoisted him by his collar that he looked at me at once almost too confusedly for his own good. "Run!" Butcher's voice echoed of the same words that he nodded, my attention turning to Butcher while my phone still vibrated like crazy.

"Well, well, well... If it ain't the invisible cunt." He carried a crowbar, going closer to the wall that when he went for the kill, only collided to the wall. A peal of laughter echoed the place that Butcher got thrown at the wall nearby, making me act upon and grabbing a discarded shelf, hitting from where the force came from and colliding with but a thud.

"A-Alice?! _What the fuck?_!"

I bit my lip, "Yeah. What's up?" I try for a next blow but that only ended with the invisible man, pulling the shelf from me and a kick in the stomach that sent me flying to the other side of the room.

"I thought we could trust you! Why the _fuck_ are you here?! Why are you with them?!" I could hear him close to me but I couldn't see him, _fuck_ him for being invisible, _fuck_ my phone for only beeping that he's near and not telling his actual location. This was annoying at the very best. "Answer me!" Another kick from the stomach that I was able to hold on to while silently enduring the pain, turning it sideways for him to fall at the shelf and seeing Butcher deliver a punch but we were too blind that it resulted in another kick, and a straight jab at Butcher's face.

I fumbled around again but he was lost, only feeling the nauseating sensation of being punched into the jaw and falling face flat on the pavement, hearing movements and thuds inches away from me that I see Butcher landing punch after punch—on a bloodied figure of Translucent.

Good tactic, but not so much in combat when we're actually trying to land a punch to a guy similar to a damn rock. But I gathered the courage to stand up when Butcher fell from a punch, my hands holding on to a large rock I was able to throw, successfully distracting him while I hoist up Butcher. "_Fuck you, Alice!_" I could hear Translucent say. "Who are you with, huh? Who's this shithead? A _fucking_ spy? For who?" His bloodied invisible figure started walking away to an opposite direction that I ran, gulped, and tackled him down the ground where my knees collided in the part where the sun usually doesn't shine if he wasn't always _naked_.

But, futile attempts after futile attempts when he was able to grab me by the neck and choked me. "You're gonna tell me why you're doing this or I'm gonna kill you." I held tightly to his hands, desperately removing it while I gasp for air. My eyes started to water and my feet dangle inches from the ground. I was struggling—trying to breathe.

"I'll tell you!" I mustered to choke out even if it was so hard to do so. Finally being set free from that grasps that my eyes darted behind him and sees Hughie, inching closer and closer before my hair got pulled back again.

"We trusted you, Alice! Didn't treat you like shit! And what? This?!" I rolled my eyes and spat the blood that I could feel lingering in my mouth.

"That supposed to warm my heart now,_ son of a bitch?" _He pulled me back even further, his grasps on my hair felt like he was planning on leaving me with a bald spot.

"Tell me who the _fuck_ these people are, who you are, and what the hell are you trying to do?!"

"I'll tell you who you are." My side vision saw Butcher struggling to get up, all bloodied and gashed up but still had a smug smirk on his damn face. "A _fucking_ moron." Really?! Now?! "Translucent doesn't even mean invisible. It means _semi-transparent._" Hughie pulled the cord from the discarded television, which didn't budge and soon enough, gathered Translucent's attention. _Fuck_.

I felt a tight grasp on my waist when his hold on my hair loosens, Butcher pulled me back and kicked off Translucent which his figure immediately collided with the cord. Electricity crackling wildly on his trembling body it might have been a full five seconds of him being electrocuted before he fell on the ground with that amount of shock. That could—kill _fucking_ anyone.

_Except him._

"'_ey_," Butcher called, his hands going about on my jaw that I backed away from the sharp stinging pain. But he pulled my chin up, eyes scanning to my neck I could almost see the rage burning in his eyes. Butcher was pretty darn easy to read whenever he's mad—and he looked really mad right now.

"Just a scratch." I could almost taste the blood on my lip when I hoist myself up. Another stinging pain on my stomach as I help Butcher up.

"Is he—Is he dead?" Hughie asked while he leaned on the shelf looking shell-shocked still. Much worse now that he practically electrocuted a superhero sweetheart.

Butcher kicked off Translucent but he wasn't dead. Or else the beeping on my phone would stop. "Well, he ain't movin'." The kid started spouting worried curses while I duck down on Translucent's body and feel through his neck, slightly wanting to choke him the same but knew it wouldn't satisfy me the least bit. "How'd you know the electric could do the job?"

"Skin's carbon. Highly conductive. Saw it on, uh, Jimmy Fallon." _There's still a pul_se.

"Would've taken me forever to work that one out. Good job." He sounded amused.

"There's a pulse. We should probably sort that out first?" Hughie panted restlessly while Butcher looked at me grimly. "He's a _fucking_ god. He can't be killed by a blow in the head, much less any _fucking_ thing that could kill a normal human being." That's one of the things I learned while watching over the Supes. They have great—really great capabilities it was truly a wonder how one could possess many great things.

"Let's get him in the boot." I nod, standing up to my already bare toes as my heels are probably not gonna be much of help lifting a six foot tall man.

"_Wait, wait, what? Wait, what? What?_" Hughie asked. "The trunk." Butcher answered exasperatedly but I don't think that's the kid's question about.

"No, no, I mean, what are we—what are we doing with him?" _Err, _cleaning it out?

"Well, Hughie, you just offed one of The Seven, mate." Not a good way to say it.

"Me? You—You guys hit him with a _fucking_ car!" I was already up at it carrying Translucent's feet when the _asshole_ dropped him once again. Well, so much for wasting my energy on that one.

"Look, _potato, fucking po-tah-to_. We're both in a shitload of trouble." Eerily weird we say the same things—_okay_, Alice, mind on the situation for once. We need to get out of here—like this very instant. This isn't a place for an argument.

"No, no, no, we're not! He—He attacked us, okay? And you're—you're a federal officer, you know? Just—Just call the _fucking_ FBI." Oh, no.

"Yeah, o—okay, so, look, technically, I'm not a Fed."

"Not now!" I say exasperatedly but Hughie already heard, and he looked like a ticking time bomb.

"_What_?! Then who the _fuck_ are you?!" A _fucking_ question of the year. "So—" Hughie started panting out loud again I backhanded Butcher and practically cursed him off. It was not the place for twenty questions, not a place for grand reveals, and certainly not to lounge around like police cars aren't gonna be here soon. "You're not a Fed?" Poor sweet child, get your shit together.

"Do you hear that? That's the old bill. So unless you want to explain why you've got America's favorite invisible wanker dead on the floor, give us a _fucking_ hand, will ya?" He panted for a sweet long second before cursing and lifting up his feet while I gathered my heels, the _fucking_ bug lying casually on the counter, and all other evidence that could lead straight through our faces.

I ran back to the car, lifted up the boot for them as they slammed Translucent inside and closed him off for good. "Let's go. They're gonna be here soon." I took my seat on the passenger while Hughie mindlessly entered the backseat. Butcher looked at me for what seemed like help—but I wasn't going to deal with it. It's his fault he revealed that shit to him. Of all the wrong times that is.

"All right, listen, I have worked for the Feds. I've worked for loads of people. I'm what you might call an independent contractor." I snorted, right, _independent contractor _is a pretty way to say it. "You got a problem, you call me, we solve the problem."

Pounding at the trunk began echoing to the car that I looked, followed by Hughie, and Butcher. "What is that?" The kid asked.

"That's a problem."

"Oh, thank _fuck_, he's alive. Yes, yes, he's alive!" Have I said that he got a pulse a while ago? Didn't he hear that from the shock? _Huh_. "Okay, pull over." Wait, what?

"Hughie, we can't," I say, looking behind and seeing him panic out of his shit. "Calm down, okay?! Calm your shit. Right at this second!"

"Pull the car over, please. Alice, tell him to pull it over." I pursed my lip.

"This is a _fucksight_ worse. He's seen our faces." Butcher tried explaining.

"_Oh, my God. No, no, no, no, no. I can't do this. Let me out. Pull over!"_

"Hughie, you walk away now, and you will never get payback for Robin. You'll spend the rest of your life sitting on your ass with fucking regret. Now, is that what you want?" That shut him up and I'm pretty sure I'd still like to get Butcher to be my therapist. He could make me believe anything, make me calm down like what he did with Hughie. He worked like a fucking charm. "I know a bloke. Top man. He'll know what to do." I... don't like the sound of that.

"Billy Butcher, where the hell are we goin'?" He spared me a quick glance before the smile grew on his face. "This is gonna be bad." I whispered to myself as I held my head with my hand. I guess I couldn't come to work tomorrow. That's for sure. Not when Translucent is living and breathing at the trunk we're in, had seen their faces—my face. We got no choice but to do a... **quick fix. **"I hope you know your french."


	9. H

**IT KEEPS GETTING WORSE AND WORSE.**

I stayed guarding at Butcher's trunk if ever this supe acquired a power strong enough to punch away his boot and kill us, and then kill us again. The two walked closer to the door, what looked like an abandoned building slightly out of town that I still haven't got the slightest idea who it was—but had a small assumption of it. Butcher and I knew many people, but the count of who we trust landed down to the number of our fingers that upon those people, one stood out. One that preferred the solemnity of being closed off to the world.

Butcher's fist knocked on the door three times before it was opened by a woman. She had a fag on one hand, sunglasses weirdly enough, and eyes with an odd color I could stare at it all day long. "Morning, luv." He greeted, "Frenchie about?" _Oh my god, I was right._

The girl looked, eyes wandering to Butcher, to me on the trunk, and—to Hughie who her hands quickly made a grab of his cheeks—almost awkwardly scrunching it like a curious alien before she fell back and left the kid to look at us in question.

I stood up from the trunk, making sure it was tight and snug before I lead the way and rolled my eyes to Butcher. "You'll love this guy." I could hear him say to Hughie that I was sure he would—but I also didn't think Frenchie would love seeing Butcher. Let's just say they didn't have the best personality. Kind of—_opposites_.

French music echoed soon as I entered the room, my silent footsteps—while also wearing a pair of Butcher's old socks, stumbled upon to see a topless man with his lot of ammunition. It was a _fuck_ load of armory, collection of big and small guns as he set them up one by one. "Oi, Frenchie!" Music stopped that he looked at us, one after the other with not a distinct emotion. Not before I walked closer and curtsied with a playful grin on my lip.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle." I gotta be honest. I don't know _jackshit_ about French words but when Frenchie spoke, he seemed to offer the words he's saying through his gestures.

"Frenchie, I've missed you." I leaned on the table as he grabbed one of my hand, kissing the back of it in a manly way that I swear rendered me flushed. Always a gentleman, this French friend of mine.

"This is a surprise." He says after letting go of my hands, eyes quickly oozing off of the guns laid at the table. Oh, how I've missed this. I haven't held a gun since—_two years ago_, and that was a long and weary time not to hold something that fills my heart with glee. I know, that was a psychopath thing to say but it really does. To hold something of importance and beauty. Always a damn feeling. "Good to see you." Frenchie was rough around the edges, I admit to that. But he was proper decent. A good man if you're equally the same.

"Good to see you, too, mate." Butcher greeted back.

"Means you brought that 40,000 you owe me?" I giggled.

"When have Butcher paid a debt? He still owes me twenty bucks from the poker game. Hasn't paid a lick." I could almost see Butcher rolling his eyes frustratingly but Frenchie only laughed.

"Why else would he show his face around here?" _Yeah_... about that.

"Because I've got something even better for you. How would you like to double your money?" Ah, here goes the talker again. The two of them laughed while I cocked an M24 from the table, earning a cautious glance from Hughie—and a weird one from the girl. Like she was looking through me. I'd like to see her do her best.

"Who is he?" Frenchie waved around his pistol towards Hughie while I lay down the rifle, genuinely concerned he'll started popping off rounds.

"This guy? Oh, this here is Hughie Campbell. We're, uh, working a little job together."

"_Ooh_." The girl cocked another pistol while her head bobbed looking to me. Okay, is there something going on I should be aware of?

"And he's still alive?" Frenchie asked.

"You and I worked together, and you're still in one piece." I shook my head about.

"Am I?" _Are we?_

"Look, do you want to know what the _fucking_ job is or not?" Always the most endearing sweet talker that he was able to convinced Frenchie, with the help of a little egging on my side, to go out back to the trunk where it looked like Translucent hasn't came out of this little hole.

"Open it." Butcher urged.

"Who is in there?" A certain someone. An invisible guest.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Frenchie?" Butcher crackled the cattle prod in his hands that I knew then we were really in a deep sense of every way _fucked up._

Frenchie started unlocking the boot that there echoed, Translucent's voice. "_You dumb fucks are fucking dead! Have you any—aah_!"

"That's **Translucent**."

Butcher slammed the boot shut and turned to the ever so panicky Frenchie. He was slightly worse than Hughie but in retrospect, Frenchie had always been a little hyperactive. "You got Translucent in your trunk, huh? Alice! You agreed with this?!" Okay, why is it always me then? I merely tolerated this shit because Translucent apparently tried to choke my life away, knows that I'm an accomplice, and would probably cost us our life—and _plans_.

"Yes. But only because—" Before I could even finish, Frenchie took the safety off of his gun and pointed it over Butcher's throat. Here we go.

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!"_ I held on to Hughie's shoulder, insinuating that this shit is something he'll probably see in a day to day basis. A normal occurence even for Butcher himself. 

"Go away. Get him out of here."

"All right, all right, easy."

"He's chipped. The Supes could be on their way. Homelander could be on his way right now." Frenchie stated that caught me off-guard.

"Wait, he's chipped?" Well, I might have forgotten about that little important part rather dumbly when my phone was literally attached to his tracker. _My, my, dumb bitch._

"You bring this to my doorstep? This is not my problem, huh?"

"Well, it is now. He knows what you look like." Okay, that was the point of showing Translucent to him, right? Smart cheeky bastard. "Look, Frenchie, I need your help, mate, and I ain't leaving till I get it, or till The Seven show up." Frenchie stayed for less than a second before pulling the gun away and backing up.

I was about to follow back up when my phone was sent into another fit of vibration, seeing Ashley was calling me that I signaled to be left outside and answered it. Alright, they won't be tracking me at this rate—at least not yet. "Ashley—"

_[Alice! Ms. Stillwell was looking for you! Have you seen the fucking interview? A-Train sucked ass on that kid with cancer, he needed a new write up, and you're not fucking around? Where are you?]_

"Ashley, I'm out with a flu and if I _fucking_ hear you shout at me again my fist will literally come out of your phone to punch you."

_[Whatever! You're in charged with A-Train, straighten him up or deal with Madelyn. And please, tell me you've got contact with Translucent? He's been out for the night. He have a team up tomorrow.]_

"No. I didn't. But I'll try to call him while I'm at home. Thank you for letting me know."

_[Whatever.]_

I pulled my phone down and turned, only to be met with Butcher's gashed face. "They're looking for Translucent. But they weren't growing suspicious. At least not yet. We have to deal with this now." He sighed, nodding at me as he walks closer and tugged the coat snuggly around my body. For the rest of my days, never will I wear a skin tone dress in the midst of being Butcher's partner again. If it's not blood splattered on it, it's me shivering the _fuck_ out of my arse for it having less fabric than it should have.

He pulled up the collar of the coat upwards, covering a fraction of my neck and chin in the process it raised a question I couldn't ask. Why did he do that? "Let's go." I followed behind him nevertheless, seeing Frenchie stack equipment on the back of his black van. Soon enough, it was the time to go and we followed after the directions he gave, ending up in an abandoned restaurant as Butcher rounded up at the back and together, pulled up all the crates and boxes inside.

The air was stuffy at best, causing for me to sneeze which seemed like an amusement from my comrades when I hear chuckling. "Wow, good sight, huh? Haven't seen a girl sneeze like that ever in your lives?" I was least bit glad they're laughing in the midst of the situation. It took off some heavy load.

"You sneeze like—like what you say, err, a _child_." Frenchie described as we descended the stairs towards the kitchen.

I could only hear them giggle in silence. Reaching the floor and soon enough, everything in place when Frenchie set up the electric cage, I set up the equipment to be used on the supe, and Hughie was fairly in-charge of the tech stuffs we didn't have any idea of working if it hadn't for him. As for Butcher, he's in charge with our prisoner as he threw him inside the cage and activated the electricity. Voiding him of a possibility of escaping. "You know—I wasn't planning on killing a Supe on a first Friday of the month. Certainly not a Supe I was handling." I snorted, the whole event washing down on me like a fucking waterfall.

"You don't have to be here, Alice." I hear Butcher say to me while he smoke near the counter. "You can go to work now. Report to me at the end of the day whatever their shit would be then." I rolled my eyes.

"You're shitting about if you think I'm gonna leave my partner behind." The way the smirk grew on his face brought laughter to me. "Aren't you just so glad that I'm back?" Butcher scoffed.

"Whatever you say, sunshine." I found a piece of discarded paper and threw it to his face.

"Stop calling me that." He shook his head while I winked and cocked the gun, knowing this was another futile attempt to erase Translucent from the face of the earth. I'm certain they know that—or not???

Butcher stepped on the cigarette as he entered the room together with the other two, leaving me in the solemnity of being alone—until I heard Translucent's voice. "Ugh... oh, what the fuck?! Where am I? Oi!" I dropped the other pistol I'm holding while I held another behind my back like second nature, peaking to the door to see nothing but his voice.

"Morning, sunshine." Okay, disgusting that I'm comparable to be called that like Translucent—second, it's kinda funny.

"You know who I am?" He shouted, must be so that he hadn't seen me yet.

"Not sure. I know so many invisible assholes." I snorted at Frenchie's remarks. This man was so full of unexpected humors ever since I met him.

"You fucking amateurs!" He made the wrong move of clinging into the side of the cage when automatically, the electricity crackled at his skin it looked like he's a fourth of july firework himself. "Fuck! What the fuck?!"

"Ooh, mind them bars, son. You'll only bollocks yourself again." The boys started going back now to the door where I was standing, one hand behind my back on to the gun while the other lay perfectly still to my side. I mean, yeah, he's around an electric fence. But a Supe is still a Supe. They're evil cunts with extraordinary strengths. He withstood the voltage from the tech store—who knew what he could still do.

"Alice! Alice, let me out of here! Do you want anything? Money? I can give you that! I can give all of you!" He pleaded but it was no use. The choke marks on my neck hated his guts so much so that I wanted to electrocute him twenty-four seven.

"We don't want your fucking money." Butcher answered as he pulled me away from the door, giving one last look at Translucent's invisible figure before I turned my eye away.

"What do you think, Frenchie?" Butcher asked while I went next to Hughie and took off the coat, the temperature being increasingly stuffy with a chance of fucking heat at seven in the morning. This also really isn't the best way to spend breakfast on earth but I'll make do with what I have. Killing a Supe might be much better than cereals.

"You just dropped the Moby fucking Dick of problems on my plate. That's what I think." Hughie's eyes darted to me, and he did it again. Look at it once, twice—three times before I rolled my eyes with a smile in mere disbelief. This boy looked like he hadn't seen anyone wear a really—really tight dress. "He can re-order his carbon on his skin into metamaterial. It's hard as diamonds. It's nearly impossible to penetrate."

"All right, how 'bout we suffocate him?" Butcher looked to me in confirmation but I merely shook my head.

"Some Dominicans already tried this, way back in '07." Yep.

"And what happened?"

"They're all fucking dead now. That's what happened." Double yep.

"All right, then, fuck it, electrocution. We'll just increase the amps!" Butcher looked at me again, and another no again.

"You already hit him with enough to drop a water buffalo, and look. Might knock him out. Doesn't seem to kill him, huh?" I'm afraid that's true. "No... We need to pierce the skin somehow." Well, if we could get a fucking needle that could withstand any force and any thing? Then that could work.

"Well, how the hell are we gonna do that?" Butcher needs to stop looking at me.

"Don't look at me. His files included his favorite snack and favorite drink—not how to fucking kill him." The two exasperatedly sigh while I noticed a movement beside me, one slow and panting coordination that I was able to get on.

"You're gonna kill him?" I held on Hughie's shoulder, quite literally would I love to ask him if he was really awake the time Translucent tried to kill him—or was he even remotely focusing on the matters at hand. It was quite understandable he felt the need to ask the question. It's not everyday you get a Supe to kick your ass because you tried to plant a bug on their board room.

"We didn't bring him here for a fucking Happy Meal." That's another way to put it.

"I don't—I thought we'd question him or something."

"What are we gonna ask him that he's not gonna lie about?" Hughie looked like he's deep in thought. "Hugh, I've known their lot for quite a sum—and let me tell you one of their greatest fucking quality. Lying."

The kid sighed exasperatedly, "I don't know, you get a you get ahold of someone this big—"

"At Gitmo, we had to water board Khalid Sheikh Mohammed 183 times over six months to get him to talk just once. Now, we ain't got six months. I doubt we've even got six hours."

"We don't even have six hours if they noticed but a lick of sign that he wasn't contacting anyone. Even me. And they know me to be very persuasive."

"There are so many crazy things about what you two just said, but right now, you're talking about randomly killing one of the most famous men on the planet. A goddamn national treasure. I mean people tend to notice that kind of thing." Treasure, maybe. Noticed, uh, yeah. But it won't be too bad. He did his shit, he almost killed all of us—and will kill all of us if we decide to let him go.

"And if we let him go what do you think The Seven will do to us? Hmm?" Squish us all into jellies. "You can't get A-Train if you're a greasy smear on the pavement."

"I'm not a murderer." We know.

"That's all right." Butcher scoffed, "I am."


	10. I

**A HYPERACTIVE CHEMIST, A BRUTE, AND AN ANXIOUS KID.**

That's who I'm stuck with for the rest of my day, it looks like. Although Hughie went to step out for a little while and Frenchie started setting up his equipment, I was left by the counter beside Butcher while we waited to be the French guy's assistants. "I reckon you love **VOUGHT** even more now, huh?" And Butcher just can't seem to shut the _fuck_ up. This was his little thing. Teasing me endlessly until I point a gun at his face and he waved it off with but a laugh, successfully getting into my nerves being his entertainment. He was soooo _fucking_ lucky I never had the need to pull the trigger.

"I'm planning on quitting." He looked at me, like surprised I was thinking about it even if we talked about me being the man on the inside. "Billy, I know you're gonna tell me that I need to stick with this shit—until _fucking_ forever. B-But two years seemed... enough." I couldn't help but vent out. Butcher always knew everything about me. I was an oversharing bitch, mostly to my partner—which was him, and the last time I ever vent out like this was also—two fucking years ago. _And it's still to him. _We had a pretty close partnership. Ever since—_his wife._.. and I was kind of glad he never closed me off entirely—at least not that much.

"Two years, huh?" He repeated that I nod. "Seemed like a short time." I snorted.

"It's 'cause you never dealt with the shit they—they asked me to deal with." _All of it._ "Do you know how many collateral damage I've covered up with a written check from **VOUGHT**? _Yeah, I counted. _One hundred two—three if we considered Hughie's signature." Butcher looked away. "I made it a point to believe that—it brought me enough thrill to satiate my thirst for—for purpose. The thrill of the battlefield. But along those years I remained blind..." Ignorant truly was bliss if you never choose to open your eyes.

"Butcher," I called again, gathering his whole attention although his gaze never spared in my direction. "I'm tired of being in their leash." It was the truth. Yes, I wanted to be the man on the inside, but then again there was this buggering feeling, that I was making a mistake staying there.

I wanted to get my life the way it was—but could I? To be honest, I don't even know if the way I've lived before would be equally shitty or bring me more peace. We're on to a rough start here. But this was—better. Outside is better.

"Leave **VOUGHT**." My eyes immediately darted at Butcher while he circled around the cattle prod, loud reverberating music from Frenchie's headphones being the only sound as I stared him down in silence.

"You're—You—You won't be mad?" The brute looked at me and frowned—"wait, did I said something wrong?"

"You must be dim if you think I'll be mad at you." He stoop down from the counter and threw a bottle soon when Frenchie laid his hands to our direction—to his assistants. But still, what Butcher said lifted another torn stuck to my chest. Like—Like I'm gonna be free soon.

"You're too soft for me, Butcher." I teased, making him known that the only way I'll ever thank him was to this. Tease each other to the fucking death.

"You must be dreamin', **_sunshine_**."

We stayed being Frenchie's assistant for so long I hadn't even noticed my phone was being bombarded with calls from Ashley. I left it at Butcher's coat that when I came to check it again, I dreaded it be Ashley—only for it to turn out and be Madelyn Stillwell. "Ms. Stillwell?" I answered, stepping out of the makeshift lab from what would have been a kitchen and on to the stairway clear of earshot. Wouldn't wanna risk letting my boss know that I'm trying to kill one of the members of the seven.

_[I've heard from Ashley that you have a flu?]_

"Yes, Ms. Stillwell. I apologize for not calling beforehand. I was too sick to even go home at the flat. Stayed at my mum's for the rest of the day. Is there anything I could help you with?"

_[Is that so? Well, I hope you'll feel better soon. We need you here.]_

"Thank y—"

_[Have you heard from Translucent?]_

"No, Ms. Stillwell. I tried calling him but he never answered. I wouldn't get him on my own tracker even if I try. It's just a proximity tracker."

_[Well, I hope you feel better by the end of the day so find him. Alright?]_

"O—" The bitch never even waited for me to answer when she ended the call and left me with a platter of responsibilities soon when I get back. But thinking about it now, it actually made me smile. Because as soon as this thing blows over, I'll saunter about at **VOUGHT** and hand my resignation later without warranting not a shit of explanation. What matters now is that I'll be out—and I'll be very free pretty soon.

"Hey." My attention directed towards Hughie's voice. He was coming up a few steps to me that I slunk on one side to give him way. Only for him to take a sit a few steps below me. "Is that **VOUGHT**?" He asked, his voice giving away just how much all this experience was wearing him out. I mean, cleaning up is such a task. Too many preparations for but an underwhelming experience.

"Yeah. They're—looking for him." No need to hide anything at this point. If he's gonna be one of us, he gotta take it all in. "You okay?" Hard ball question but worth a shot.

"No." _Huh_, really honest.

"You gotta understand, Hughie. Infiltration? Child's play. Spy work? Basic job. Running around and making new personas, tiring but pretty easy. But there's one thing we do that would never, ever be easy. I mean—my first time? I never really went out of my flat for three months before it dawned on me that it's done. I already did it and there's no other way for me to go than forward."

"You have to understand that the world is a cruel place. It's a _fucking_ dimhole that you're gonna sunk into and you'd find out soon enough that no one is an innocent." I stood up, bobbing my head and smiling encouragingly to the kid. I may not be great in pep-talks but I did what I have to do. Throw the truth at him and let it be his decision if he chooses to burn with the fire or use it to fuel his rage more. "Come on, let's get back. Who knew what the boys are into."

It was a damn premonition when we walked back together and heard clicking sound. One that's familiar to me that when I ran to find out what it was, it's deemed too late for my unnecessary reaction. "No—No! Wait!" Frenchie opened the door for Butcher holding a gun straight to the cage, Hughie's futile attempts of stopping him were intentionally missed by the man when he fired the shot and it collided anywhere—but to Translucent's _fucking_ body.

The invisible man laughs irritatingly that I kicked the door closed and paced back and forth, wondering now how for the last two years I never even bothered knowing what their weaknesses are. It was not exactly at their resumes and interviews, not exactly a common question to ask a supe or else they'll practically kill you then and there for extracting an information that's very dubiously needed. Well, we're all fucking fools by this point forward. Fools that'll turn into goops of blood when the team—or Homelander finds us harboring an invisible _asshole_.

"Well, that was great, guys." Oh, A+. "That was awesome." Hughie, not now.

"Frenchie, back later." Butcher spoke, sparing me a glance before going away that I frowned and followed his steps.

"Where are you going?" I asked, not that I'm worried he'll back out on us. Let's just say Butcher tends to reconnect with some—people in the midst of crisis. He has quite a knack for making friends and turn them into enemies, and turning them back to friends whenever he deemed fitting so.

"I got an idea." I eyed him. "Long shot but it might—why're you looking at me like that?" In my years of experience in playing con man, my long—long list of personas included a very curious cat that wouldn't let information gets passed by. She's called _Georgia_, named from a state I wanted to live at when I was eighteen. And Georgia is a curious weirdo with abilities of making a person so uncomfortable to the point that they would tell everything to you in the line of frustration. And I was doing that to my partner right now.

"Alice." He called but I kept looking at him. I won't talk, I won't even move. Nothing until he tells me where he's planning to go—or might as well be who he's going to. If he'll be killed, at the very least I'll know who killed him. That's a practical and sane information to withhold. "Raynor." _Oh._

"Don't forget your coat." I threw the coat I'm holding at right at his chest and turned my back hastily.

"**_Alice_**."

"Send her my regards." He scoffed, "_And try not to fuck her, too."_


	11. J

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for supporting SUNSHINE! I'm so sorry for the long wait but I'm here now! Yay!

**"FRENCHIE. THEY'RE SENDING A GODDAMN TEAM."**

Those were the words I couldn't believe came out of my mouth with panic soon when I read Ashley's message about a team designated to look out for Translucent's last whereabouts. Well, we were too confident about bringing him somewhere along the sea of abandoned ruins and forgot the sole fact that his tracker was still reading the place until maybe, it pin-pointed around the area. That lead to this, a shitstorm over a shitstorm.

Frenchie and I made for the guns, he held one flashlight while I was pretty confident without. I take pride for my clear vision so much that I only managed to bring out pistols on me and set them up, feeling a burning stare on my left while I did. "Hughie, I need you to stay here and be on guard." I looked and saw him nod once, brows furrowed like a confused child that he actually jumped to his toes when Frenchie cocked his gun. "Stay calm and if you need us—don't shout. Alright?" He never spoke a word when Frenchie called for me, being that I was actually worried of leaving him behind but an awaiting firefight is much dangerous than a prisoner in an electric cage.

I just hope Hughie wouldn't do anything stupid.

We went down, it was slightly dark although the post lights from outside shone a bit from the windows that we were still able to see. It was quiet for the most part, us, just waiting for trouble like we've always been doing before. "I never heard from you, _mademoiselle_." Frenchie said, making me look with a lingering heavy chest. "Ever since—" I shook my head, leaning by a discarded table while placing the safety back on my gun.

"It was a long, long time, Frenchie. Too many had happen. It had been a nightmare I needed to forget before we all became—somewhat whole again." The events from our past brought an impact to the team so much so that we needed to go separate ways to look for peace within. I found mine although soon enough after I did, well, I lost my real job and became a corporate slave. Everyone turned away, I turned away—until another set of _fuckery_ brought back some of us together. And even a new guy!

"Truly I've missed you, _mon amie_." I look down to my socked feet and smiled, not being able to keep it all in while I hear his steps going near me. Truly I'm a sucker for this french man but it was all there is to it. I'm clearly just a _slut_ for his french accent. Any accent other than mines, to be fucking honest. _Yes_, even in Butcher's accent.

"I've missed you more, Frenchie. I could never see my life without a friend smoking a joint and taking a pill at the same time." He chuckled while he leaned beside me, the silence fully enveloping us peacefully until a sound of car brought us back to our stance as we peek along the gap of what once the entrance. It was barricaded with planks, sure enough no one would actually waltz in to check their beloved hero.

A full minute of the car parked in front of Frank Cicero's restaurant that it left right then, blowing a puff of relief right after as I do not intend to blow my cover just yet. I'm kind of waiting to hand that sweet, sweet resignation letter personally. It would've been an achieving obstacle to go through for me. "_We'll check at the back."_ The sound caught us off guard that Frenchie took it upon himself to pull me down, seeing lights by the right side of the restaurant as we both cocked our gun as silently as we can, going the opposite way of where the movement of flashlights went through.

Frenchie gestures the other side for me that I quickly went my way to, two hands holding on to a pistol tightly without the safety, awaiting a tragedy until he moved from the counter he's ducked in and the glass of the window broke. I almost instinctively turn to defend the place if Frenchie hadn't held me tight by my shoulders. Second by second, waiting for the man with a flashlight to turn it to us—until it never did. "Always eager,_ mon amie_." I fought the urge to roll my eye while I was securing the place, putting up the discarded piece of wood with his help on the window to avoid any other uninvited guests to our humble home.

"You know me, Frenchie." I brush my palms like a good day's work and turned to him, "Let's go and find the way to kill that pile of shit upstairs, shall we?" He curtsied as I did too, looking like two idiots making our way to the kitchen where we found golden boy leaning on the same counter he was in a while ago, looking afar that paused me to my tracks while my french friend was far too determined to kill the invisible asshole.

I only found Frenchie holding onto a gun before I lay all mine on the table and leaned next to the kid. "Hughie, what's up?" I saw how his face flinched when Frenchie fired up the rifle, looking like he's paling every minute of the gun shot slinging through our ears. "Hughie, I need you to be tough on this one." He looked at me, eyes almost like he couldn't believe me but I had to push it onto his brain that this—this is it. "This is what we're all going to do the minute we joined Billy Butcher's _shitfest_." I voiced the last part out when Frenchie went back inside the room holding a goddamn drill he pulled somewhere I didn't wanna know. "And it's gonna be tough. But you have to be tough, too. Not for—for her. Not for anyone else. Only to yourself. If you really want this, you're gonna have to strengthen your will."

"_Fucking_ diamond skin!" My eyes flickered to my french friend that I knew it was my time to shine. He was cursing and throwing things away that I held him back and tapped his shoulders.

"Let me try." He nods, fumbling around his pack while I held up the cattle prod.

"Here," My head turned to the voice before I pulled the door open.

"What is that?"

"Don't give our new friend drugs, Frenchie. I don't wanna see him high as shit when I come out." He merely laughed while Hughie looked rather confused as ever.

I took it as my cue to enter while holding on to a cattle prod—and my sane mind. Alright, it would have been very foolish entering without nothing but if you wanted to extract information, you gotta be at least sane and equipped with far enough skills to actually make him say what you wanted to. I'm not an expert but I could say that I have a fair share of success rate. Well, if working at **VOUGHT** for two years without so much as suspicion earned isn't success, I don't know what is.

"I was waiting for you." I sat on the ground as my dear invisible friend made himself appear all naked but cross legged, to my _fucking_ relief. I wouldn't wanna see him bare as shit while interrogating him.

"You were?" I say, laying down the cattle prod which he eyed carefully before snapping his attention back to me. "Miss me already, Translucent?" I could see him smiling—but the slight flinch on his left eye says he's not very fond of looking at me right now.

"Why?" He asked. One word but it would be anything—anything if it not for the fact that I was who he's talking to. "Why did you betray the Seven? **VOUGHT**? Aren't you the one that's so _fucking_ into work? And you're gonna betray us? It's not even half as believable you'd do this shit!" _Okay_, he was getting angrier now. "Are they—Are they holding something against you?! You have a kid or something?" _Ah_. Emotions really do bring out the worst of us. The way how he fell close to my radar just proves much about trusts and how they will go far as to not suspect you with anything as long as you showed them—something to hold on to. Like... **loyalty**. "Tell me, Alice. We will fix this. I'm gonna talk to Homelander. We'll kill these _motherfuckers_!"

"How can you prove that I'm not doing this for personal vendetta? Enjoyment? Or just simply because I want to?" I made sure to put a slight tremble on the voice. He's a supe, I could only hope his mind is greater like his strengths are ever so.

"Alice, I know you." _You don't. _"You've handled me for two _fucking_ years! You ain't about to kill me!" Kill you. I will, actually. You choked me, _asshole_.

"But no one could kill you." Swerve the topic right to where I want it. "They couldn't." His face shifted into—amusement.

"No one can kill me! They're shitting their _fuckin_' asses if they think they could kill me!" Frenchie is near that, may I say.

"They're asking me how to kill you." That put the smile out of his proud face. I just really hope Translucent doesn't know what goes on behind close doors. That they didn't know we don't have any idea how to. But we're kind of their handlers. So, it was just about right for us to know? Maybe? Just throwing a ball out there.

"You told them?" Oh, shit! He doesn't know! "Alice! If they have something against you—you—you still have to protect the secrets!" He was leaning closer now, but remained covering his part that I thank the heavens for. Really, I do. "Alice. We're friends. We've been through so much!" That, I know of. We were friends. But behind that title lies the truth where even if I knew he's in the bathroom, I got tired of speaking about it. Even if I knew he did—unimaginable shit, I looked past it. But that's all there is to it, actually. A _professional friendship_ in which I kept his shit and he wouldn't give me shit for the fear I'll _fuck_ him over.

"I know. We—We're friends. I couldn't tell them the secret." I made sure to anxiously look behind, hiding the cattle prod slowly to my back as to not bring him back to the actuality of what I was doing. "I couldn't tell them that you'll be killed with—" He shushed, very violently while looking at the window. I didn't know the country's beloved invisible man was so gullible. He didn't look like so. "They wouldn't hear us. I promise." He nods, but still shushing. "Come on! They have a term for that _weakness_." Oh, _fuck_. I threw that kind of risk in a haste but I was willing to own up to it. I couldn't stand more minute inside this room with him. I said what I said.

Translucent frowned that fastened the beat in my chest. Well, I'm done now. But it was a good try. At least I did the best my con abilities could—

I was taken aback when my dear foolish friend grinned ear to ear. _"Inside out."_

_Oh my god._

_How did we not think of that?!_

The way I perked up from the floor backed him up, all glad and happy over that little fact that I see it dawned on him. Rained down on him so bad I almost laugh at his face. "Thank you, dear Translucent. It's been an honor being your handler for two years. This—is where we end our friendship!" I patted down the cattle prod and turned giddily like a child that just found out Santa Claus exists, only to be met with the same face as Frenchie. "I—_fucking_ got it." The way he looked at me says a lot about how the small fact of finding out how we solve the problem brought—unnatural joy over our senses. Even if there's a man screaming at our backs, it never stopped me from silently celebrating a win.

"Oh, _mon amie_. We share the same brain! Genius! Genius, _ma chérie!_" I handed him over the cattle prod as I closed the door behind me. Grinning like an idiot before my eyes met Butcher's.

I went over him, inches away from his frowning face that I quirked up my brows and sniffed. "_Hmm_. Didn't get what you came for?" He shook his head, my eyes squinting like a dubious eagle before smiling. What was this—feeling I'm feeling? _Huh_? Is it relief? That he doesn't smell like a virgin who just had sex? I have no idea. I'm just glad he didn't—_hit the same mark twice._

"What were you two thinking about?" Hughie's voice shook me to the fact that I was so near to Butcher, and this asshole didn't even step back even after he spoke. He's just... there.

The television gathered my attention before answering that it took me a minute to realize they were talking about—turtles. And what does turtles have? A strong _fucking_ shell. But inside? _Oh_, inside was a soft tissue. Just like our dear, dear friend. I merely pointed to the animal planet channel that Hughie looked over to and Butcher still hadn't moved an inch.

"Seeing you all giddy takes me back two years ago." Oh, Butcher. Such a nostalgic brute. They say eyes are a window to the soul but what was I seeing in Butcher's soul? We are soulless pieces of shit. It's been proven by the supes we've spanked over the years that I still try to see what was it the way he looked at me. What it behold.

I used to think his eyes were cold and dark, barren from the ghost of his past that never faltered to haunt him. But looking at it now, this close, I see a twinge of difference from what he once was and what he is now. It almost scared me. But I'll let a ten wheeler truck run me over twice and break all my bones than admit to myself that I see happiness in his eyes.

"Are we gonna gawk at each other or are we gonna spank some supe?"


	12. K

**"OPEN YOUR EYES, SUNSHINE!"**

"I am not—I will _not_ submit to this!" It was one thing actually finding out what Translucent's weakness is, it's a whole other thing when they're trying to let me in on the process of actually doing it. They've already managed to let me in and hold up the cattle prod in case he woke up unexpectedly, it's much worse if I open my eyes and see through what Frenchie was doing. It's—kind of something I'd rather not take part with. We're talking about _morality_ here, and I even have a tad bit of it if I say so myself.

I try to keep it up.

Butcher laughed out loud that I had it in me to stick the prod at him so he could get a taste of how annoying it could be to hear him tease about and giggle like a goddamn child. "You're missin' the fun, **_sunshine_**." It didn't even help that Frenchie groaned, a sound coming right after that almost made me wretch if it wasn't for the fact that I was withholding my wits about me.

This is not a place to act like a bitch.

Hughie was very _fucking_ lucky to not be asked of participation right now. "And that does it!" Frenchie yelped that made me look, trusting my fellow comrades that it's done now and almost running outside to relieve me of such experience. It doesn't matter whether Translucent's invisible or not. Just that—mere act—_nope_, I will not think of it again.

"_What the_—something doesn't feel right." Sleepyhead finally woke up and he's in for a big surprise.

"Oh, I'll bet." _My, my, what a sarcastic asshole, Butcher._

"I'm not ashamed to admit I have outdone myself." I rolled my eyes while circling over the cattle prod.

"You should be. I am." Frenchie merely grinned at me as he slouched down next to the cage.

"Now, the problem is the skin, _no_? It's, uh, hard like diamonds. But then I realized, it is just your shell that is hard, _huh_? Like a turtle. But your insides they're like the rest of ours—soft." That's why he said it—_inside out_. I could still not believe I got that information to him. It was an unexpected shot. "So, how do you get to the squishy insides? Through the mouth? _Non_. The stomach acid, the gag reflex. If I stick something down your throat, you may vomit it up." He clicked his tongue while I stood by the door. "There's truly only one way."

"The _fuck_ did you do to me?" Oh, Translucent. I hope you didn't ask.

"He stuck a lump of _plastique_ up your bum, son." Butcher made me giggle it was so out of place and very odd to do so.

"_Ass bomb."_

"_Oh, my God." _Me too, Translucent.

"Now you stick a little finger up there and try and fish it out—_bang_." I reached out to the heaven above to stop me from hitting Butcher with the stick. His gestures wasn't helping on erasing that little experience a while ago. "I trigger this—" The remote was courtesy of Frenchie, too. Of course. The man had amazing inventions he could pass along as one for the books. "—also _bang_." _Huh, I wonder what ass bomb looks_—"Savvy?"

Our invisible friend started crying now it almost sent me in a fit. I never saw him like this—not even before, not even once. He must really be so _fucking_ scared now to actually be crying—naked. "Oh, please don't kill me. I'll do anything." Well, he is useful. Up to a point that he's not. "I'll tell you about A-Train." _Oh. Hughie_. "That's what the kid wants, right?" All eyes one him, including me. Maybe that little moment alone with our captive earned him a good time to interrogate him. Smart—but almost not careful. "I-I-I-I don't know where A-Train was going that night he killed the girl, okay, but I know where he was coming from."

"What? Where?"

"Popclaw's." The girl with—_claws_? "He _fucking_ loves her. He doesn't think anyone else knows, but I know. I know a lot of things. But he-he's there every night. Maybe now, even." That made an odd pair, but what's not odd these days?

"Popclaw? That's the hero with the the sharp things coming out of her arms." Ah, not claws, just sharp things on the arms. _Same difference._

"Yeah. Real D-lister." Butcher answered the kid.

"Anyone knows what A-Train was doing, it's Popclaw. But that's all I know about that, I swear to Christ. But I'll tell you anything else you want. Just ask." Butcher bobbed his head but I wasn't gonna move. I just let the two pass by as I watch it unfold in front of me.

"Now, normally, that would be just what the doctor ordered. But unfortunately for you—we're out of time."

"No. No! Please! Listen, I know shit. Alice, tell them that I know shit! Come on!" Butcher looked at me with a frown but I only shrugged, knowing the dark shit he's talking about were the ones the public wouldn't wanna know. Like—the dirty kind of shit. Not the ones that will actually be proven valuable. "Alice! Please—_please_! Help me!" Butcher grasp my arm and pulled me away from the door as he closed it, his hands hovered at the button that I stayed looking at the window.

Maybe there's a little part of me that wouldn't wanna see it. Translucent grew on the shred of me where it stayed loyal at **VOUGHT** for two years, but the latter part with choke marks, gashes on the faces and an aching rib wanted to see him blow up like a _fucking_ birthday cake.

"Butcher!" Frenchie called, pulling me back from a daze that we went over his laptop, "A moment, _s'il vous plait._" He pulled up one recording in which if you actually blinked, you'd miss that small rapid figure flying past the sky.

And I cursed, out loud. "_Fucking hell!"_

"**Homelander**."

"That's Homelander? Homelander's here? Oh, shit. Oh, shit!" Hughie needs to stop panting now or I'll _fucking_ panic, too. "He could see us. He's got X-ray vision. He can see through the _fucking_ roof!"

"We know!" I shouted, my hands hovering over the arsenal we brought and thinking which of this will help me do my futile attempts of shooting Homelander before he turned me into a crisp cut of fries. Like a shredded paper, clean through and through.

"And super _fucking_ hearing. You pull that detonator, he will hear."

"We _fucking_ know." I murmured to myself, holding tightly to a bomb while my other fingers tapped on the table, hearing Hughie exhaling so loud it's clouding on my head.

"We got to throw him off the scent."

"But how?" Hughie asked while I tucked in the same pistol behind my waistband.

"Pittsburgh." Wait—

"Oh, you cannot be serious, _huh_?" Frenchie looked at him incredulously, the same time I looked at him like he grew another head.

"Deadly." Butcher spared me a glance, bobbing his head that I rolled my eyes and nod. And what it said? It says I _fucking_ hold the fort.

"You know how much this will cost me?"

"Put it on the tab."

"Tab in which he'll never ever pay, I tell ya." I managed to choke out before Butcher pulled me on my hand and looked at me—as if asking me that I only managed to nod. _Of course I'll be fine on my own. Who does he think he's talking to?_

"Go!" I pushed him out as he handed me his coat, looking at me from my head down to toe before he disappeared out of my face and I focused right on the screen.

"What are they going to do?" Hughie asked, worried as shit I try not to let it consume me too.

"A technique they've acquired creatively over the years." I cocked the gun soon when I saw Homelander flew again, making it a point to stand by the other side of the entrance just to make sure he wouldn't see that broken window over his super sharp fucking eyes. "Don't worry about it, alright? Just stay here, guard the door, and I'll be back!"

"Where are you going?" He asked while my hand secretly made a grab for the grenade, afraid it'll worry him far too much he'll pop a vein—several.

"_Future_ damage control."

I went down the entrance as soon as I can, my steps careful for anything that would make a sound, wary for any other type of movements around me that could slice me in half like a pizza. I held on to the gun safely, ears ready for any sound that may occur as I stand behind the plank and felt movements through it. I know, it's foolish to even play hide and seek with a man that could see through—walls, but it was worth fighting it off and making time for Hughie to escape if push comes to shove. I merely cared about our little new friend. He's far too innocent than the rest of us to be made into goop the minute Homelander was done with us.

There, I waited. Slouched down behind the counter while controlling my breathing, hearing voices from the other side of the room I try to make out of until it went away. I didn't know how long but there was no other sound that came anymore. It was almost a sigh of relief if not for that sound—that force every time Homelander flies that it pushed me to the wall before—nothing. Nothing else followed, nothing else left.

It was all good if Homelander left, but my problem now lies to the worried kid down at the kitchen, making it a point to hold on to the grenade if ever he did something stupid again that may need further control—_again_. The determination to not get anyone killed into the group is palpable to me that I may think I'm the only one who actually cares not getting killed at this point of my life.

_Whatever_.

I went downstairs, turning the silver pistol on my hand and had planned to steal—or _borrow_ it from Frenchie when—when_—I couldn't even explain it._

First was footsteps, and _panting_, and the minute I opened my eyes again, there was _fucking_—**_blood_** splattered on my damn chest.

And it's not—not a _fucking_ good Friday for me at all. Not a _fucking_ bit.

And most specially, **not** for Hughie.


	13. L

**"OH, GOD."**

I held on to the wall as much as I could to avoid—slipping in _skin_ and _blood_, and bits of whatever it is that's left from—Translucent's diamond skin. It was too good to be true to expect that Hughie was going to hide under a table to avoid getting seen by Homelander—but he... _fucking_ pushed the button.** He did it. **"Hughie." I called softly, slowly making my way towards him while he stood there, holding up to the remote and looking ahead at the picture of a baby on the wall. "Hughie, it's okay." I pulled down his hands carefully, like he was so fragile and I was afraid to disturb his state.

He looked at me, eyes wide and horrified, but full of—adrenaline as what it may seem. Maybe in the moment of heat, he had the decision to make. And—and this was it. "Hughie, it's okay. Let's wash up, alright?" He nodded slowly while I grasp on his shoulder, having to deal with a lot of people with the same look on his eyes from before when I still had my real job.

That _experience_. That mixture of rage and guilt pooling in his eyes that his bloodied face didn't help one bit. But I pulled him, up until the sink and let him be. Only to look away and find the rest of our ragtag bunch looking at us—horrified.

Well, I supposed looking bloody and all with my skin tone dress and pale skin, it was least to say I look like dead coming alive. But I signaled them to offer their mum for a bit. Just as long as Hughie gathered up his shit enough to assess the situation. Everyone needs time. He needed it more now that he actually—_legitimately_ have killed someone. A first kill isn't something you'd forget in a blink. It'll scar you your whole life. Until you learn to live with it.

But Butcher just couldn't help his mum when he pulled me on both arms, eyes roaming around me as well as Frenchie before I frowned and bobbed my head. "I'm not into pieces, aren't I?" I say in a hush. Slightly incredulous of my choice of words but it's what came out. "I'm okay." He offered a sigh, a nod, and pulled away the coat from my hands. It was such a shame to ruin a good clothing, and also a dress that costs me three hundred bucks. But the things we do for business, right?

I stepped away for a minute, letting them do the rest of the work while I wash myself on the women's bathroom that reeks absolutely so bad I didn't last long before I went out still looking half as bad—maybe barely now that I washed off the blood that splattered on my face. They were already scraping up the floor while wearing aprons and gloves, while I stayed far back without the blood to avoid getting myself mucked with dirt again. "Sorry about all the..." I only noticed Hughie's already about when he spoke.

"Oh, don't be stupid. You did us a favor." Well, yeah. But also not very good of a thing there. He was shaken off of his core.

"What are we gonna do with him?"

"Ah, we'll take care of it." Butcher will take care of it. I expect to be home now that we actually lasted another day and it's supposed to be the day I'll hand in the resignation. It's just about right so, I wouldn't want my already dead phone to drown with any more calls from **VOUGHT**.

"The-the, uh, tracking chip." Hughie suggested.

"Already disabled." He was worrying about a lot of things. Maybe that's his way of coping, and I'll let him. For now. "Sit down and relax, Petit Hughie."

He started bolting then that I stood up from my place at the bathroom and was on my way to follow him. "Oi, where you think you're going?"

"I'm going home." You and me both, Hughie.

"I need clothes." I raised my hand to gather the attention of our leader but he merely scoffed at me. Rude.

"We'll get you clothes." Me, too?

"I want my clothes. I'll be right back." Aren't we all? If I could just have my bag right now and not have left it on Butcher's car, I'll be gone by now. But I didn't wanna risk breaking his window and paying for it—and for his rage that'll follow.

"You are, perhaps in a state of shock, _mon amie._" Frenchie says as carefully as he could, heeding to my suggestion that they tread lightly on him right now.

"Hughie, you just arse-bombed America's sweetheart. You can't just piss off." Not a good put-together sentence but it'll do.

"I need to go home." Butcher paid me a glance that I merely nod. Everyone who's in shock would have wanted a safe familiar place. One that would put them off in a cozy blanket and cradle them for a minute before it all go away. That's the reason why I agreed.

"All right. Frenchie will go with you."

"Wait, what? No." _Oh, Hughie._

"Either he goes with you, or I break your legs." That's that. "Good lad."

I went off and bolt the other way, finding bits and more of what's left by the supplies room, looking for something that could help me walk off of a bloodied slab without staining my feet when I found _nothing_. Not even a plastic, not even another piece of cloth. "Lookin' for something, _sunshine_?" I hit my head on the metal shelf when the voice reverberated behind me, looking behind with a frown etched on my forehead to the asshole that surprised the hell out of me.

"I'm looking for something that would not have me scrub myself for days to not smell that irony muck of shi—_what the fuck!_" I didn't know whether to kick Butcher in the face and risk falling down or letting it be when he deliberately rounded his arms around my waist and leg, lifted me off of the ground I was slouching at and carried me along the bloodied hallway with a smug smirk playing on his lip. "I'm gonna _fucking_ kill you next." I seethed, looking away from him now that I couldn't stand him.

"I'll be expectin' that, _sweetheart_." He dropped me down to my feet soon when we reached upstairs where it now had dirt among other things, but it was already much better than having the thought of Translucent's bits stuck on my feet.

"I need to go home, too. Change my clothes. Take ten baths. Hand over a resignation." Butcher didn't answer. He only smirked as he went about downstairs going god knows what, making me wait at the counter where I sat while my feet dangle off the ground. It took him quite a while before he carried a silver case of—I didn't wanna know, signaling for me to come that I followed back to the car where it smelled—fresh now. Not blood, not old stuffy air. Just a fresh polluted air we normal humans need to breathe in.

"Wait 'ere." I nod, setting myself on the passenger seat as I wait for him to come up, seeing him five minutes after followed by a bomb that I could only guessed to burn off all of the shit we've done. That was the easiest method aside from brushing away all the fingerprints done in the place.

Silence was maintained along the course of the ride. I never spoke, he never did. I stayed looking outside where my brown hair was blew off by the air, just appreciating a morning wherein I didn't dread waking up at seven, go to work and deal with their shit. I was going to be okay now. I still—have my other foot on the line of death but don't we always? Don't we always have our life hanging by some thread, waiting to be cut off at the perfect time?

At least now, what I'm doing was going to kill me—_but it's gonna make me so fucking happy._

"I'm moving out." I say as he rode out through an almost empty road right by my street.

"I was hopin' you'd say that." I can't stay at an apartment **VOUGHT** knew—and provided for me. If more, I wanna live where I did before—somewhere I could actually call my home and not be worried about having someone barge in to check what's up with me.

"This is me." I say as I let him stop a few complex before mines, making sure there weren't any men waiting for my arrival looking bloodied and harmed like I've been mugged ten times on my way home. Butcher stopped the car right then, looking around and on his side mirror before glancing at me with a smile on his terribly gashed face. "You outta clean that blood off of your nose—and cheeks." I say, pointing at my own face that he nodded and chuckled. "Y-Yeah. Thanks for the ride." I didn't know what the shift in the air was but it was so awful I had to get away now.

I grabbed my bag, looked left and right, making sure no one was within eyesight to my bloodied dress that before I even ran on the way home, Butcher called. "Hey, **_sunshine_**!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"I'll meet you at the _dump hole _at 1." _Right_, our adventure never rests. How could have I forgotten about that?

"Where are we going?" I say, brushing my hair away as I look at him from the glass. But he never answered. The _asshole_ merely smiled before he revved his engine and drove away.

I rolled my eyes, seeing as it was useless to flush out information to him when he thinks it'd be befitting as a surprise, I went my way up to my flat and felt through the front door before I fully entered. I do this neat trick of putting odd objects on its places to see if someone entered the place aside from me, but luckily though, the small piece of button I left at the corner of the door never moved an inch. That only meant they spied through my house using the CCTV they installed—that they knew I wouldn't see.

If they were any clever, they wouldn't hide it at the tiled wall of the kitchen, blending it to the circular design of the ceramic. I wouldn't have found out about it if I also didn't expect it. But as it is, nothing ever gets past me now.

I made my way quickly to the bathroom, careful not to show the front part of my dress before heading straight to it and showered like a man who hadn't felt water for centuries. It was refreshing. The smell of the soap took away that iron filth lingering in my skin that I may have indulge far too long before I went out looking fresh than ever. I took drying off as a time to get work done on my laptop, bringing up a document file of already made resignation letter.

I'm always ready and equipped. And this one? _This has been a long time coming._

I didn't waste any more minute after emailing it directly to _Madelyn Stillwell_. Making sure I wore jeans, a turtleneck for my ugly choke marks, and a coat that reached my knees to make up for the days I never brought anything to stop myself from shivering up to my ass. I made sure to put enough concealer on my fresh gashes, knowing it'll be bad but really needed as I couldn't face _Madelyn Stillwell_ heavily beaten. Also, there was no bag on my person, only a dead phone and a wallet, keys and ID before running down to the lobby and asked for a cab that came in no time.

The view of **VOUGHT** welcomed me once again, feeling like I was—a new person. Standing in my ordinary clothes, no clipboard, no handbags to look proper, no dresses and heels. Only boots that could help me run if ever I encountered future troubles on my new occupation.

**VOUGHT** was dead to me the second I came face to face with Ms. Stillwell in her office, smiling so dangerously to me I had to fight it off with a much—nicer smile. One that embodied the Alice Hunt persona so well. "I've seen the resignation you've emailed me." I don't really got time for any more niceties but I was willing to face this last one, just the last time before I run down the building and see Butcher's smug face again. "Is that your final decision?" _Oh, you don't even know._

"I'm afraid to say it but... yes, Ms. Stillwell. The—job is taking over my health and I couldn't let it happen anymore. The doctor suggested the same solution to me. I guess I just... have to take it down a notch, you know? I've been all work and Supe—don't get me wrong, I loved every bit of it. But—I kind of forgot who I am for a minute there." It was the truth—and not the truth either. "I never even acquired a—a relationship while I was at it!" I laugh, faking the whole relationship excuse even if I was, in fact, not interested in a relationship whatsoever.

Feelingsbring you down, you know?

"Really?" I nod, "I thought I heard about—Deep's crush for you." _Excuse—me?_ "Oh my god, I'm sorry. You didn't know!" Insert the feign intentional act of pining me over a supe to remain on the job. It was a cheap shot, but Madelyn was all about getting what she wants, even the lowest thing she'll do to have it. Too bad for her, I don't like a supe. Not even remotely one.

"I can't, Ms. Stillwell. Their priority lies in saving the world. I could not intrude to that." She nodded, standing up from the couch across me as she circled around her desk. "I'm really sorry but I have to do it, Madelyn. It's been a roughly two years, I think I did my part very well on the last years." _You bet your ass I did._

"Well, I don't think I could stop you anymore." I stood up as she sat on her leather chair, crossing her legs and nodding to me, "Not even a salary raise?" Why was she so into stopping me? Isn't this something she just lets go off? Nevertheless, I shook my head. "Alright, Ms. Hunt." _Finally_! "I'm very sad to see you go but I hope we'll meet soon." _Nu-uh, bitch. _"You'll always have a place in **VOUGHT**." I prefer not to.

"Thank you, Madelyn." And fuck **VOUGHT**, too. "I'll be going now. Good bye." I waved my hands, not letting the smile crept up on my face before I went out and almost screamed—if it hadn't for the time on the clock at the end of the hallways that made me hastily reach for the elevator and pushed down the button to not let it stop on any other floors.

Let's just say that a certain _asshole_ is so impatient to the point that he'll practically enter **VOUGHT** to personally escort me out. We both know it could be trouble awaiting for me on the inside and one more minute late, I swear Butcher was gonna do it. With the face I'm looking at right now? He surely would. "What took you so long?" Eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched and eyes sharp as an eagle he'll bolt my ass if he could.

"**VOUGHT** loves me too much to let me go."


	14. M

**IT'S A SURPRISE WE'RE PARKED OUTSIDE PRISON.**

I looked at my partner next to me, confused and annoyed as ever that his surprises are almost always not very good at the eyes and something that'll probably get me to have a heart attack next time I let him surprise me like this. But I looked at him, using the _Georgia_ technique that I knew he didn't have it in him to brush away. "We're meeting a friend." He stated almost vaguely I bobbed my head to gesture him to continue. "I need your help."

"You always do, _baby_." I teased, earning an eye roll from him as he left the car that made me laugh. Following after his suit as his coat billowed through the air—and siren wailing afar his plan right now was sending my nerves into a fit. I was a composed person, never assuming, never panicking—but let's just say that everything about my partner gets me nervous. "Who's friend are we meeting?" Like I said, we have very little friends and we all never keep up to each other as far as I know. I mean, I wasn't. I thought this life was far over before Butcher appeared in front of my face with that ever so annoying smile of his.

"You love him." He says as we flew past the gate while the guards weren't looking, being able to successfully and quite dubiously passing everyone until it dawned on me that it wasn't that heavily guarded as I expected it would be. This isn't the real deal type of prison—this was like, a place for fugitives that are underage. _Boys town. _"And we need him now more than ever. That with A-Train and Hughie's little revenge." He took it upon himself to pass the back door where I checked our six o'clock before running down to where he's going.

"And we needed to sneak into jail to do that? Can't ask the receptionist nicely?" Butcher merely snorted.

"I prefer the more exciting way. Where's your fun, _sweetheart_?" I fight another urge to kick him by the shins as he peaked on to the glass of the door before swinging it open, the both of us looking like some of the people in the place with our coats and casual clothes I wonder how we're gonna _bullshit_ this—when we didn't get caught, and when Butcher laid his hands for me to wait before he swung another door open.

An empty office with an overlooking window that when my eyes flickered to look, a familiar man with a tough and large frame stood with his back at us. Butcher pulled me away from the window exactly when he turned, dropping myself voluntarily on the chair across the table and crossing my leg as I knew this is bound to be one hell of another mess. Like Frenchie's. "Help me convince him." Butcher murmured that I scoffed at him unbelievably.

"I could do that—but _why_ would I do that_ to him_?" I snap back, knowing that the man we're about to recruit back was a man trying to live his life right by his family. We may not have been keeping up with each other—but at least I knew that fact.

"We're trynna get _the boys_ back. We need him." _Am I really gonna do that?_

"You know he hates Frenchie, right?" I made it a point to let him know but he didn't answer, and my own question to myself never came to me when the door from that room opened, revealing a frame that both spared us a second glance before shaking his head,

"Oh, hell nah!" He looked at me again, and shook his head again. "Not _you_!" Why is it that everyone is so surprised of my participation like—aren't I supposed to be the psycho bitch they're trying to get away from? There's a reason Butcher's my partner! "What the _fuck_ do you want?" The smug bastard smiled, one so funny and annoying at the same time.

"What, I can't visit me old mate? Rekindle the unbreakable bonds of brothers-in-arms?" Does he mean rekindle the bonds that shattered our skulls and broke our bones at the same time? Yeah, _that's about right._

"Nope." His eyes flickered to me, M.M. looked at me like he was judging me and I didn't like it for a bit.

"Believe me, I went through a whole lot of thinking before this." Well, maybe not. Maybe Ashley pissed me off so much that it made me come to Butcher and that's where it all started.

"Come on, M.M. Bring it in." I would've punched the shit out of Butcher if he did the hugging gesture to me. Lucky M.M. was a tamer man.

"Look, if it's all the same, let's just cut the small talk. All you're gonna do is lie and say how you're doing fine, and I'm gonna lie and pretend like I'm happy to see you." He paused for a moment, "I'm happy to see _her_—but not you." I grinned as to tease my dear partner that he shoved my arms a bit and huffed. "But—why are you here?" Ah, that, the awaiting question.

"All right." Do it nicely now, partner. "How'd you like to come back, have another go?" Too straight to the point, could've warmed it up a bit but that's Butcher for everybody.

"Mm-mm. No, sir." Just as I expected, "Keep it to yourself. I don't want to know nothing about nothing. I'm a happy man now. Life is good," He says after grabbing a ruler that I looked beyond and sees he's making lines—and lines... and more lines. "Monique is back, we're good, just—" Butcher looked to me and I knew that look very well.

He's asking for help on convincing him.

"Oh, yeah? How is Monique?"

"Spits on the ground every time your name comes up. I can't do that to her again, man. Not to mention, I'm actually making progress with these boys." I stood up from my seat, peering out of the window to see that these boys looked like they were arguing. That brought up a good idea.

"Hey, do you mind if I—go and play ping pong outside?" M.M. looked at me like I grew nine eyes. "Oh, come on, M. You know as well as everyone in this room that I can take care of myself." I know that he knew deep inside he couldn't stop me, so I did my thing and went out, bidding good bye to the two friends as I sauntered about on the little boys room. Seeing eyes go over me as I placed myself on the view of the ongoing game. "Oh, continue. I'd like to watch." I waved my hand off, the boys looking at me one more time before I grimly bobbed my head to the side.

They started playing right then. "Ohh, looks like he's beating you." Player one to my left was already ahead of player two, making it known that he was already winning that pushed two to bring out his best. The ball was hit with force that one missed it, earning a feign glee from me. "Oh, man. He's gonna beat your ass now!" I kept egging, pulling out the riled up player two from his own rage while letting down player one as part of the plan.

And what exactly was my plan? Well, M.M. says he was making progress with these hormone raging teenage boys that seemed to have an anger problem, I just like to test that _little theory_. "That's nice! Get him now! Drag him into the mud!" I seemed to have gathered the right audience when they, too, started cheering out to player two, the player one sweating his shit off before he finally had enough of the egging that—well, he drew himself atop the table and _strangled_ player two.

My eyes darted over the window, M.M. was shouting to the boys that they broke up the fight, making me shrug as his attention went over me. Acting innocent and all when it's actually my fault I turned a friendly game into a wrestling match. It was time for me to go out at that when M.M.'s voice reverberated from the door. "This is about Becca, isn't it?" _Butcher's... wife_. "It's always about Becca with you." Well, yeah. If your wife disappeared without so much as a trace, ain't that supposed to fuel your rage of finding out whatever happened to her? That you actually have a lead and it was never—ever followed again?

"Oh, you ain't got your reasons?" We all do. But Butcher's reason was far more—unsettling than all of ours mixed together. "It'll be different this go, all right? None of that "_secrets and lies_" bollocks." Heard that one and so far, we're not doing very good at it. "And that Mallory shit ain't gonna happen this time." Won't it now? _Huh_? And why was I even—_eavesdropping_?!

"Are you bringing Frenchie back? 'Cause I can't work with that motherfucker." Here we go,

"Frenchie? No, I ain't seen him in years." _He fucking lied! _This sneaky _asshole_ is gonna get it from me. "M.M., you're the only bloke I can trust." I trust him either, the man was all morality and shit. I ain't about to think twice.

"Yeah? How's about _Alicia_?" Wow, what an ugly name to use on me. I never knew how much I hated it the minute I changed it to Alice, indefinitely. But still. It really was dreadful. I know now why I kept changing names away from it.

Oddly enough_,_ there was a long pause before he spoke again, "_You know that's different_."

Wait—what different? _What the hell is he talking about?! _He—Billy Butcher doesn't—trust me? That what he meant by different?

"Butcher—" Before M.M. could even continue, the door charged open that revealed me, acting like I was tying up the laces of my boot before looking up and pulling the most believable surprised face ever.

"_Asshole_! You startled me!" I laugh as Butcher looked at me skeptically before walking his way in front of M.M. again. I followed behind, closing the door and looking at Butcher as if—as if I still couldn't believe the way he... said it.

Like—like it was a punch in the gut. After all these years of being partners with him for so long... he doesn't—trust me? Are we even partners or was I the only one that thinks that? Is that the reason he left me in the field after the whole thing blew up? The reason he disappeared for two years?

"So?" Butcher asked to our old friend looking at us before he raised his hands and stood up.

"_Fuck it."_

That exactly ended us inside a truck rental that my _partner_ personally acquired at a location of our newly found lead. I stayed sitting by the other end of the truck, looking down while tapping my foot on the ground, hearing them walk back and forth while they set up the equipment we needed. I just—I just couldn't bare looking at Butcher. I didn't even look at him when he handed me the keys to the truck, didn't look at him when he sat beside me at the truck, and not even when I'm sitting now enjoying the solemnity of being alone. "A rental, you cheap bastard?"

"Who do you think I am, some double-O wanker? In case you hadn't noticed, we ain't exactly rolling in it." A pair of boot stopped in front of mine that I still did not warrant any attention to him as I stood up and placed myself beside M.M. At least this guy trusts me, and at least I know that.

"And you don't think this is conspicuous?" M.M. nodded at me soon as he saw me, looking back to the laptop screen and seeing the hidden camera directed towards an apartment complex of our new lead.

"Conspicuous? No, I don't think it's conspicuous. I think a big black van with fucking "_flowers_" on the side is conspicuous. This is just another truck on the street." Rhythmic knocking followed soon that I bet it was Frenchie and Hughie, getting myself ready for another set of grand reveal. "Bang on time!" I still didn't pay him a glance.

The kid was the first one to climb up the truck, smiling at me and directing towards M.M., "Uh, hi. Hughie." Ever so polite boy, but the man merely stared at him, having trust issues and all. I bet he didn't know about our acquaintances.

The problem started now when they, Frenchie and M.M., looked at each other—and shouted out of their asses. Hughie was thrown out at the side as our big friend decided to push around our French friend, going over each other while I was just sitting down and letting the big man handle it since it was his idea and I didn't think _he'd trust me enough _to actually stop them.

"You'll give the game away!" Uh, duh? The shouting and screaming would surely make us look more insconpicuous.

"Not until this frog gets what's coming!"

"Only thing that is coming—_is me on your mother's titties_!" I did not need to hear that, Frenchie.

"We had an agreement about him!" Hughie looked at me and pointed over at M.M., shrugging as it was Butcher's shit to deal with.

"We agreed to put a pin in it, all right?"

"What agreement?"

"There was no pin. I don't trust this French whore!" It seems like we're having trust issues in our merry band of misfits.

"I am more American than you, you racist piece of shit!" It was bad timing that Butcher caught me just watching when he looked at me and shouted, "_Alice!"_ First, he doesn't _trust_ me? Now he needs my help?

"Why are they fighting!?" Hughie asked to me that I shook my head about. It doesn't need to be opened right now.

"It is water under the bridge." If we put it that way.

"You tell that to Mallory's grandkids. Tell them it's water under the bridge."

"That wasn't my fault, huh?" It all leads down to this again. _Oh, god._ Is it too late to regret joining now?

"Who is Mallory?!" Hughie, I can't answer your questions right now.

"All right, the both of you, knock it on the head, now!" M.M.'s ringtone played now that it pulled him back from his rage, turning away from us and answered the call we all could hear because of our very limited space. I focused back to the screen, wary for our point of visit when a hand pulled me back from it.

"What the hell is goin' on with you?" Butcher asked that I only managed to look at him in a straight face—stopping my fist from connecting directly to his face. "What?!" I shrugged, brushing his hands away from my shoulders and turning back the screen. Hearing kissing sounds necks that fluttered laughter from all of us—even me.

Who knew our tough guy would be this—_lovesick_! Monique truly was a wonder. "_Fuck_ all of y'all, okay?" I directed back to the laptop, remembering what we're actually here for aside from trying to kill each other.

"All right. All right. Listen, you two knobbers kiss and make up, yeah? We got a fucking job to do." _Fucking finally._ I see the enemies shook their hands before Frenchie did something stupid again, _of course_. "Who's this guy?"

"The new lad. Hughie. Hughie, Mother's Milk."

"That's a nickname?" Uh, let me think about that, too. _Is it?_

"No, my mother actually named me Mother's Milk." Hughie mumbled words for a minute that I could clearly see M.M. being frustrated the hell out. He doesn't like things out of order, that I know off. And us—well, we're one big bunch of OCD triggering _shitheads_. "So we got a French whore, an ex police officer and a Stephen _fucking_ Hawking. Great job, Butcher." That sounds about right. We're like a perfect spy group. Really perfect—except, _we don't trust each other._

Yes. I'm not letting go of that _fucking_ discovery.

"Well, it was Stephen _fucking_ Hawking who dusted the Supe." I rolled my eyes and rest my chin on my palm, looking at the screen again when a woman walks down the sidewalk with her hoodie up.

"Here's our princess." I say, gathering their attention that I could feel the boys leaning down the screen near me.

"That's Popclaw, right? A-Train's girlfriend?" She was talking to a man, must be a neighbor or his landlord.

"You think her and A-Train are, uh..." I scrunched up my face on M.M. that he shrugged. _Ass_.

"Yeah, playing bury the bishop." What a very good analogy, my great _partner that trusts me_.

Still not letting it go.

"Didn't hear nothing about it. I'm usually up on these things." M.M. said.

"According to Translucent, A-Train knows this bird inside out." What could Miss Popclaw be hiding right about now, _huh_? Supes got their own vices—but their version of it was far vile and vicious among a normal human's. I don't doubt another minute that this something—this could actually turn our main mission around.

"All right. Let's get the bugs sorted, see for ourselves." Frenchie passed me the box that Hughie crouched next to me and dig around.

"Where—Where'd you get this shit, Circuit City?" Pfft, Hughie. I like to think he's my favorite now.

"Right? He's a cheap bastard." Agreed point to point.

"You know, we don't actually need to sneak in anything." Wonder boy has another idea that'll save us a trip from anywhere again. I was right for finding him really vital to join us—at least by that there's someone I could bare looking at aside from my _partner_ and—these boys. "Look, all I need's her IPv6 number. Every desktop, every smart TV in the house has a camera on it. They probably have one in every room." Oh, _shit_. That's actually... smart.

"Even in the toilet?" **_Men_**.

"No, Frenchie, not in the toilet." Hughie glanced at me that I only shook my head. They're my friends but sometimes—I could not stand the radiating testosterone looming in the air. "Look, I just need five minutes inside. I mean, home service is my specialty."

Every one of us looked at each other—until it's settled.

Wonder boy is doing another infiltration mission. _He's getting good at this._


	15. N

**"THIS KID IS FULL OF SURPRISES."**

If I wasn't so mad at Butcher, I'd high five him and grin like an idiot—but as it was that I'm actually quite pissed off, I prefer offering him a second glance before going back to do the work and watched the screen on the laptop, eerily displaying parts of Popclaw's house where there's a camera. It's like what **VOUGHT** actually did to me when they bugged my apartment, I was aware of that little fact the reason I don't roam around on my towels—and there were no computers inside my room.

Hughie and M.M. came back sooner than later that we all huddled at the truck, doing nothing, watching the laptop until, _well_, until Popclaw and A-Train started kissing. It was kind of bothering, for the most part, being A-Train's previous handler and all, but the other part of me didn't care. I was just—thinking about how—how Butcher couldn't _trust_ me.

Is it because of my infiltration at **VOUGHT**? Did it get into his head that bad?

_"Oh, god."_ I muttered to myself as Popclaw started—well, I will not allow myself to describe that shit. Good thing was, he stopped her from doing the shit and they are now—arguing.

**"Compound V."** Compound—what? "Where'd you put it?" That certainly gathered all our attention.

"Oh, you sure, babe? I mean, that stuff, it amps you up something fierce." Easy to say they were—drugs? I've dealt with druggies and Supe high up to their arse, maybe that was it? "Remember last time?"

"Last time's not gonna happen again. I'm under control." _Last time?_

"Uh—you ran through a girl, baby." _Oh my god._ "That's not what I would call 'control'. That shit's a slippery slope. Take it from me." _Hughie_... It was so obvious how those words affected him when his frown deepens, concerning me a little bit before A-Train spoke again.

"I got to go. Why don't you just tell me where the V is, please? I'll come back to see you tomorrow after the race." The Shockwave versus A-Train race that's been on the headlines for weeks. I was supposed to be handling our dear fast runner but well, I'm out of the league now. No shitty days for me, that is.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been meaning to tell you." A-Train trailed...

"Are you kidding me? I have been getting my hair done, threading my eyebrows, waxing my body like a plucked chicken," Wow, that's a lot of _fucking_ work it made me anxious as to why—I was not doing all those things? "—so that we could finally stand up there together tomorrow in front of the world as a couple. I mean, it was all cleared with Stillwell and everything." I heard nothing about—her. "You did clear it with Stillwell." He didn't even clear it on me. And I'm the middle man from him and Stillwell.

"Look, our time is gonna come, I promise, but I got to get my leverage back first." _Exactly_. A lying _asshole_ since day one. All of them Seven. "Where's the V?"

"What the hell is Compound V?" Hughie asked.

"Sounds like some kind of performance enhancer. Steroids for Supes?" I snorted.

"More like meth if—if he couldn't control it." I say, not getting along the lines of running past a girl because he was _fucked_ up to his brains.

"Yeah. Well, whatever it was, he was juiced on it when he murdered Robin." That is just... _no_...

"What are you grinning at?" Our eyes darted towards Butcher, well, mine more like hovering at the wall behind him to avoid looking in his eyes. _Yes_, I'm gonna act like a teenager because I'm really pissed I might really give him a one-over to get it done with.

"Oh, I don't know, mate. Maybe it's 'cause The Seven might just be a squad of manky 'roid heads." Haven't they always—_oh right, _I'm the only one here who knew that. "Now this is exactly the kind of malfeasance that Langley is gonna eat up by the spoonful." Langley. _Pfft_.

"Not until we're sure it does what we think it does."

"If we get a bit, can you work it out?" Butcher suggested, probably his brain is racking up miles of information on how to sneak up a dosage of it.

"Oh, I can run some tests, of course. But there's no way of knowing unless I try some myself." I shoved Frenchie's arms that he chuckled. _Unbelievable_.

"We'll cross that bridge when we burn it. First of all, we got to get some."

Not very promising so that the next day, with barely any sleep at a motel Hughie and I shared, the boys fetched us up at nine in the morning. No breakfast, a whole lotta plan to eat up, and then drove towards the arena where the race is gonna be held. I would've fancied the plan so much if it hadn't—if it really hadn't included Butcher suggesting that my con was gonna be—his _fucking_ **wife** again. I don't even know if Hughie was informed of the fact that it was fake—and I made a mental note to do that.

The first to leave the van was Frenchie, Butcher, and I. Sparing a glance at each other before turning away to the side where I'd rather follow Frenchie—if Butcher didn't call me. "What the hell's wrong with you now?" He murmured while I grabbed on the lace around my neck, rolling my eyes on another direction without a lick of an answer. "**_Sunshine_**, if you don't talk now, I'll make ya." _Oohh_, scary. "Alright, then." It was a split-second act that he stopped in front of me in the middle of our path, his head slightly looking down on me while bobbed to the side, so—so close in front of me he might have forgotten the golden personal space rule.

"Am I supposed to get scared now?" He stepped closer I could almost swear my eyes almost crossed if he hadn't looked back and huffed.

"What is it?" I clenched my jaw when he looked at me like that, even if he wore dark glasses. It was bright enough to see beyond it. "Oh, come on, Alice. You ain't lookin' at me like that on nothing. So, tell it."

"Fine, Butcher." He smiled, and I swear that's not gonna last on his face after this. "Yes or no, _quick and easy._" He nods, "Do you trust me?" You're smart, Butcher. Figure out that I overheard the _fucking_ conversation. "_Ooooh_, having a hard time deciding an answer?" It took him a second longer to answer that I bumped his shoulders along my way. Not even holding back when he called my name once—twice. Who cares how many the _fuck_ it is.

I placed myself by the hotdog stand, savoring three or more hotdogs to calm my shit as I listened through the crowd, through my earpiece, everything. It was a wonder why the folks here wanted to watch—what, a two-second race? And then—go home? It was beyond me how **VOUGHT** milk out on every Supe they acquired. It was simply—outstanding.

"_Alright, Frenchie, find it. You're in the clear._" Butcher said through the earpiece, reminding me that we have a work to do but—whatever, right? Can't be too careful at places like this—not when I'm a handler that just resigned a day ago. "_Fuckin' hell, Hughie. You know Starlight?_" Wonder boy strikes again.

"Hey there." I almost thought the voice came from my earpiece when in actuality, there's a man approaching on my left side. Ordinary, 5'9, well-trimmed stubble, and looking like he wanted to buy me another hotdog. The last part was just a shot to the sky, but I was kind of hoping for it. _Kinda_. "I can't help but notice... you're on your fourth hotdog." I looked down the empty stick as he chuckled. Hmm, cute laugh, manly vibes, really—_cute_, too. "Oh—I'm sorry, did I offend you?" It was my turn to laugh.

"_Who are you talking to, Alice?"_ I could hear Butcher's voice annoying my ear that I pulled behind me and turned off my mic. I'm not about to broadcast meeting some guy that looked—remotely interested in me.

"No—no, I just—it just dawned on me." We laugh together, not lasting for long until I stopped and smiled, "You a fan of either of them?" I asked, pointing to the posters on the wall that displayed two fast supes against each other. The man beside me shook his head. 

"Nope. My sister is. She's in the loo right now. She, uh, she's still underage so I kind of have to accompany her." Good brother, nice example. "I'm _Steven_, by the way." He offered his hands that I grasp it, soft, strong grasp before letting it go and stopping myself from thinking—thoughts about him. It's _inappropriate_ and this is not the time for it.

"A—**Alison**." Acquiring a new persona, _check_. "Just Ali, if you want." The man had nice pearly whites it almost stopped me dead.

"Alison, that's a pretty name." Flattery, _check_. "Hey, Ali? Do you mind if I, uh—"

"_Bad news. No V."_ Frenchie spoke that almost pulled me out of the conversation with a good-looking man when I realized—I haven't got a life ever since everything. I mean, I'm still not very open with relationships—just, you know—_whatever_.

"Get my number? Yeah, sure." He pulled up his phone with a smile on his face, there appearing his nice set of dimples as he did it almost rendered me frozen.

"_Alice, where the hell are you?"_ Butcher needs to shut up while I'm typing out the number. "_I see ya._" Oh, shit!

"Hey—yeah, uh. I need to go." I say to the man soon as I handed him his phone, looking at his back that I see a familiar tropical shirt sauntering about near our direction. "It was really nice to meet you. I hope I can see you soon!" I did not wait for his answer as soon as I passed him by, going over to Butcher's smug direction that I rolled my eyes as he stopped. "What?" I muttered, not stopping to my tracks that I could hear him follow.

"Who was that?" He asked with the tone I didn't like so much. "We have a mission—" I may have been not listening through the earpiece and yes, it's my fault. But I still hate his guts. "You were just _fucking_ around all while we missed the V! _Fucking_ throwing a bitch fit." Not here. Not here. I gotta keep my shit until the end of the day—and then if he shit about again, I'll _fucking_ make him regret it.

Not in the car where everyone could hear. Not while we watched Popclaw shot up the V they ever so _fucking_ wanted, and not when she's lifting pounds and pound of barbell on her shoulders all the while cursing and screaming out of her ass.

"She's been at it for an hour." If that doesn't set her a new set of muscles, it's a fake. All that weight around her, that could break a human bone in a click.

"How'd you know to keep an eye on her?"

"Okay. You see that red case over there? I've been around long enough to know a fix kit when I see one. And she told A-Train that V's a slippery slope. So, she's got experience. I figured if you wait around long enough, two plus two equals nasty." That's nice even for my shitty detective work. I guess working with angry boys that shot up shit as nasty as V had its fair share of lessons.

"Sherlock _fucking_ Homie." _Asshole_ was so proud. "Now admit it. This beats babysitting delinquents any day, don't it?" His head's gonna get bigger now.

We all watched how her small drugged up montage stopped when a knock on the door came, the same man from the morning asking for payment on her rent. She was really up to her mind that she answered the poor shy man in a seductive way, making it known that her coping skills lies through what she could see at the moment. Alcohol, weird working out shit, and men. They continued talking while she rounded up and flirted around, almost making me gag when the boys with me looked—intrigued at what she said. "_Superhero fantasy."_ Now, that, that is—_nope_.

She shot up another round of V again, and now—the _fucked_ up part came to view when they role-played the shit out of Supe and criminal. She—she sat at his head, almost suffocating him in our line of vision as she muttered words I refused to believe. But the more she lasted down on the ground, the more the man squiggle violently until he screamed, and she screamed, coming close to release soon when the claws came out of her wrist—and then, **bam**.

He—was squeezed into... _jelly_.

At this point? It did not surprise me anymore.

"You let that guy die." _We didn't_. "And he didn't do anything wrong." Err, yeah, he did. Be weak enough to be seduced by a goddamn supe. But well, yeah, he's innocent.

"He was dead already." Butcher answered.

"That's bullshit."

"Hughie, don't." I murmured.

"So you can cross a street, run up four flights of stairs in ten seconds like some Supe, can you? And even if you had've got there, she would have clawed your _fucking_ head off." Exactly. "Now we got her right where we want her."

"What? What? What are you talking about?" Hughie turned to me but I only shrugged, not in me to have an answer he needs as my mind just isn't still on the right track. I'm pissed and it always gets the best of me whenever I am.

"You're a smart lad, but you still ain't twigged the one weakness they all got... Their _reputations_." The one and only thing they cared about in their whole wide candy world. "Come on, Frenchie." Butcher walks past me that I sighed, "You too, _sunshine_." _Fuck_.

I had no choice but to follow, groaning inwardly while I grabbed the gun laid down on the table and kept it behind my waist. I never go anywhere without defense, no matter who it is that I go to. A supe, an ordinary man, whatever.

We tread up to Popclaw's apartment, sneaking in was the easy part. She's too drugged up to notice her door click that when we went separate ways, Butcher just can't seem to stop bringing me around. I followed reluctantly so, not wanting to ruin any more of our plans as we showed ourselves to the poor girl, all in stance while our hands were raised up. "We ain't here to hurt ya." I hovered behind my waist, ready if ever her _fucked_ up brain turned out to be unwise. "We're gonna help you sort out this little mess. And all you got to do is tell us everything you know about this." **Compound V.**


	16. O

**"GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE."**

_"I'm gonna shoot you." _My hands were hovered around my gun, not kidding when I said I was gonna shoot him when I pull the safety off and pointed the gun to where I'm guessing he'd be, itching to pull the trigger when rough calloused hands snatched it away from me. So_ much for aiming while eyes closed_. Not my finest move but I let it be as I bury my face on a pillow and stayed there. Expecting now that Butcher might've gotten the idea that he's not welcome on my place—much less have a key to let himself on our room. _Why can't he bother Hughie instead?!_

"You really ought to get your old flat back. Much better than—lounging around this shit site." I snorted, "What? Just sayin'." I hear him pushed back the curtains that I turned and groaned even louder, the brightness of the sun blinding me for a second before I fully opened my eyes and see him sitting down on the only couch with legs crossed.

Have I said that we're not done about the trust issues yet? No? _Okay_. It's been a _fucking_ week and he needs to stop acting like he hadn't answered my question yet. Like everything is so normal right after his whole spiel about me being different. "You have the nerve to judge the motel when your own flat _fucking_ sucks." I pushed myself off of the bed, brushing my long hair away from my vision as I stood up, seeing so that it was useless trying to sleep again. Not when he's around. He exudes asshole too much to bring me to sleep.

"My apartment is just fine if I say so myself." _Right_. _Whatever_. "It's been a _fucking_ week, Alice. Would you come off it?! You're not yourself." He spat annoyingly that it got me riled up the same.

"Wow, you noticed?" My phone dinged at the bedside table that before I even reached it, Butcher did the honor of snatching it out first. "Give it back." A sly smile played on his lips as he opened the phone and read a message from god knows who.

"Oh—you're with a guy named _Steven_ last night?" He quirked up. "_Fuckin_' twat signs his name at the end of a message. You really want him after this crap?" Can he not run his mouth just for a second?!

"Why do you even care?" I snatched the phone away, seeing a_ good morning_ message from the guy—the same guy at the race that I didn't know if it grumbled my stomach from happiness or I was beginning to be wary of his sudden—attachment. We just went out last night for mere—fun. I'm not exactly sure if he considered it a one time thing like I did... "Can't you just bother Hughie!? He's in the other room—"

"He's already about with Frenchie and M.M. hours ago! You're the only one dawdling around this place. It's nearly _fuckin_' noon." His mood suddenly shifted that I rolled my eyes and let him be, getting ready for shower if it's the only thing that'll ease the tension growing on my nerves. "Be out in five or I'll drag your ass outta the tub."

"_Asshole_." I seethed, going all the way to the very quick and not so relaxing shower, wearing the jeans I wore yesterday and a shirt, not bothering to bring a coat anymore as the heat was beginning to creep up in New York as of late. I never forget to bring the pistol with me though, laying around behind my back while I intentionally left my phone in case of any more of those good mornings and good night messages.

Our—relationship was not gonna be that. I just... knew. _Not in this life._

"Give it." I hear Butcher spoke soon as I reached the living room of our temporary home. A motel not far from my old place, the one I could not stop thinking about whether I should go back to and risk having Butcher enter it the same way. He has his awful ways of trespassing and I do think he was in his supe level of psychopath.

"What?" He laid his hands like he's asking for a goddamn hug. I really wanna kick him in the shins. _Just once_.

"Punch me, slap me, do whatever the _fuck_ you want! Just go back to _fuckin_' normal, will you?" I rolled my eyes.

"Butcher, please. We have no time for fun and games—"

"Exactly! That's why I'm lettin' ya do whatever you want. Because I will not last one day more with you ignoring me every goddamn second!"

"Why the _fuck_ are you so bothered about it?!"

"It's because I _fuckin_' know you!" He leaned closer to me, his voice in a higher tone than I expected as he did. But I try not to look at him this close, try looking at everywhere but him and smell anything but his _fucking_ Armani scent. Hear anything other than... what he's gonna say. "Is this about—Alice, goddamnit!" _Don't look. Don't look. _"Look at me!" _No, nope. Never. _"What did you hear?" _Fuck, I looked. _"This about the talk with M.M.? Didn't know you were an eavesdropper now. That one of your personas?" He tried to kid around sarcastically that I shoved him away, only for him to come near back close to me like that again. Like he's—invading the personal space intended for partners.

This was—too close. "Alice, I trust you! I've said that already, yeah?"

"But why did you hesitated when MM asked you?" I just gotta know. "Why was I so different? Do you trust me less? Trust me more than you should have? What? Tell me!"

"Do you really wanna know?" Butcher sliced away the gap between us, inching to my face closer than I would've wanted it rendered me—breathless. I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe?! What the hell is this?! "'Cause I'm gonna tell ya." _Fuck_. _Stop looking at me like that._

_It's—It's weird?_ _Odd?_ _I don't know!_

"Do you?" That was the only time I ever noticed that my back was already against the wall while his face grew closer than we've ever been before. I hadn't—come this close to Butcher, not even a slight insinuation of the fact that we could... see each other like this because of his... _wife_. And I don't even know why I wasn't doing anything. I don't even know why it's making my stomach grumble. Like there's a war going on inside it and I couldn't stop it even if I want to.

_Like—I wanted to do something about it._

"Do you want me to say yes?" I panted, almost like a _fucking_ wimp that I waited for him to laugh, to tease me endlessly like what he always does but it never came. Instead, he looked me in the eye and sighed.

"Not yet." That seemed like—a very, very good answer as of the moment that I struggled to keep my sanity amidst—whatever that was and sidestepped away from the position, breathing heavily through my nose while having the need to hold on to anywhere... just anywhere that'll keep my foot on the ground while I regain what's left of my poor composure.

_That was eventful._

I turned and was about to speak again when his phone rang, _"Yeah. —I'm with her... —What? —Well, day keeps getting better and better, ain't it?"_ He murmured on the phone, drawing it back and turning to me once again. "Boys got into some altercation of sort. Can't understand through Frenchie's gibberish. You goin'?" He asked almost unsurely that baffled me grandly.

I snorted, "Is that even a question?" Butcher and I need to get some things straight and number one on that list would be: personal spaces. I... never minded it before, what with all being beside him always, but now—well, now? I don't have the single knowledge of what just happened to us.

_I just knew it's bad news._

* * *

"You've actually managed to lock yourself inside this cage? Because you're scared of a girl with powers to gouge eyes?" M.M. rolled his eyes dramatically at my obvious sarcastic remark that I still went on and unlock the filthy cage smelling of old socks that hasn't been washed since—since the dawn of time. "Thought we was supposed to spank the _motherfuckers_?"

"I'm gonna need a duct tape to cover Alice's mouth right about now." A giggle escaped my lip and found that this is how I start my mornings now. With the view of tragic deaths and unimaginable smell I swear I almost threw up on my mouth. Nevertheless, I went with looking around only to find Hughie, looking down at the corpse at their worse state with an unmistakable frown set upon his brows.

"Hey, you okay?" Butcher draw near and we're back to the raging tension, _ladies and gentlemen._

"I mean, just when you think this shit can't get any more horrible..." Things aren't always what it seems to be and in this line of—job? Occupation? Hobby, I think? It's bound to be dirty. And I'm not even talking about the things Butcher and I have done yet.

"Nah, don't worry. It can get a lot more horrible."

I scowled, "That's a hell of a pep talk." I turn around and looked for anything, just anything to get out of the brute's way and avoid that feeling—_whatever that shit was_, and decided to go near Frenchie where he was just searching on where they were previously locked at. It smelled horrible, like someone's been locked up here all their life. It was honestly not a very good place to stay and linger around.

"Why did you unlock the cage?" I asked why, leaning by the wall as I watch him fumble around wondering now what went in his mind to set free a homicidal chick locked up below a Chinese restaurant.

"Just a feeling, _mon amie_." He mumbled, turning to me as he raised his hands, holding a piece or burnt paper. "Just... a feeling."

"Butcher, come check this out." M.M. bellowed that we went to see what it was and witnessed a syringe of some sort, one that's awfully familiar from what we've already seen at Popclaw's apartment. "Take a look."

"V." Another path opened, another clue to chase around. "So, A-Train's running it here, and these blokes are dosing the Asian bird with it." Well, that would explain the gouge out eyeballs and broken bones in places they shouldn't be twisted into.

"Yeah, but why? Is it a VOUGHT thing or, like, a side hustle?" Hughie turned to me that I shrugged, thinking now just how useless my stay there was when in all fact, I never had any more intel other than getting much too close to know their nasty secrets.

"Don't look at me. I was just an associate." I mean, I could've done more if I wasn't filled with grudge enough to work there and turn a blind eye on everything.

_This sucks._

"Came gift-wrapped in this." A box torn open, proving another lead that we have to tirelessly follow.

"Find out where it came from." Butcher spared me a glance that I quickly looked away. This is very awkward at best, not when we're all to ourselves. We should really go somewhere with fresh air.

"I'll shake a few trees." M.M. said.

"Why the hell were they dosing her?" Butcher mumbled.

"Why don't we ask _foie gras_ over here? He's the one that let her out." Our resident brute pointed at Frenchie silently looming over our side that I knew there's another cat fight waiting to happen. This never go out of style. It never really does.

"She looked innocent." Frenchie defended, looking around to find his audience, even turning to me that I shook my head in all honesty. I mean, a psycho chick who almost rendered them blind and dead—not exactly a candidate for _innocence_.

"Innocent? She's locked up in a cage, underground, with two armed guards?"

"I had a feeling about her." Like what he said to me back at the cage. Usually, I trust him. But right now? With three dead Asians around me? It's scarcely credible in my opinion.

"Nah, Frenchie, you just didn't follow the plan. You never follow the plan, man."

"_You need to unclench your asshole."_

_"You need to eat my clenched asshole, how 'bout that?"_

Oh, god, save me.

"Why are you two carrying on like a bunch of _fucking_ twats? We're sniffing down a shit sandwich the size of Watergate. VOUGHT and the Supes are both gonna be looking for her. All we got to do is find the female first." I raised my hands and fumbled around the boxes laying around as Butcher went about near Hughie who's phone had consecutive notification.

"Why are you two fighting so much?" I asked to the pair who looked at each other, and back to me, and both huffed in disbelief.

"You know why, baby girl." M.M. muttered which earned a retort from our French friend.

"I implore you to get over that and unclench your _ass_—"

"_Shhh_—ut it." I raised my index finger, shaking my head threateningly as they both looked away, not in the actual mood of hearing more banter about—_assholes_ just about now.

"Annie? _Starlight_?" I overheard from Butcher that it stopped me from looking at trash from the mention of the girl I would've been handling if not for this sudden decision to join this ragtag bunch of _supe haters._

"Yeah, it's nothing. I mean, we were supposed to go on a date." Awe, that's cute. "Not a date, just, she asked me if I wanted to ask her for her number, and then we just kind of platonically exchanged information, but the... the word "date" was never mentioned." And he's such a teenager.

"It's still called a date, Hughie." I teased in a sing-song voice, earning a subtle eye-roll from the kid.

"Call her back right now. You're _fucking_ going." Butcher was weirdly supportive.

"As a rule, I don't usually go out after a gory massacre." I snorted, holding back a laughter before setting myself to lean on the table.

"Listen, here's the job. You're gonna hot mic her phone. From now on, we hear everything she says." _Of...fucking...course._ "I mean, this is a golden opportunity. And after all you done, piece of cake."

"Yeah, she's not a... She's not a bad person." The first time I saw her, I knew she's got all the love and good in the world. I wanted to stop her from joining the Seven but what would it do to a girl who worked for it all her life. Only to find out everything's a lie? I've read her files, watched her audition videos and _shit_—she does pure dirty work than all of the Seven combined.

"She's a Supe, Hughie. Just like the _fucking_ rest of them."

* * *

"She's not like the rest of them." I reiterated just enough for Butcher to hear as we went on our way to follow the footsteps of the female. Frenchie drove away to get the gas for the homicidal chick we probably wouldn't be able to catch with our bare hands. M.M. took the van and Butcher and I, well, we're left to his car where he decided it to befitting to ride with me even if I still hate his guts.

"Is she now?" He murmured sarcastically, earning an elbow to his arm that he swerved for a bit before sighing out loud.

"I'm telling the truth, Butcher. Not my fault you don't trust me enough." I looked by the window to take my most needed fresh air, forgetting I was riding out with the man I could not tolerate for a day. I wonder how we stayed as friends for so long, that I'm still here even if things aren't so right between us.

"I got your old flat back." He spoke, my head instantly darting to him I swear it almost snapped.

"What did you _just_ say?"

"I reached out to the landlady and she told me that the couple that's been staying there is going away next week. Which means it's free and it's now yours. Ya can move in whenever you want." I'm... _speechless_.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I can." He smirked smugly and condescendingly I almost punched off his pearly whites if I weren't so glad of having my old place back and if he hadn't planted my plans into fruition.

"I hate you, did you know?" The car stopped across the street from where our leads pointed to that Butcher spared me a glance and smiled.

"Yes. That's why you're on car duty." My mouth hanged as he turned his back, smacked the door in front of my taken aback face, and walk towards the salon, leaving me utterly and incredibly pissed and confused I almost smashed his windshield.

Great.

_Just great._


	17. P

**"AREN'T YOU JUST GLAD I MADE YOU STAY IN CAR DUTY?"**

"Come off it, you bastard." Butcher was awfully proud that he made me stay in the car while they inspected our first lead, seeing A-Train out of all people that tipped off the police the massacre on the Salon was just a gang hit. They legged it the minute they saw him, according to M.M. and Butcher now can't stop being so proud about it.

"A-Train saw me a _fucking_ week ago. What if he made me?" Frenchie came back and entered the van while we ewre huddled behind it, sensing pressure over our group because A-Train saw M.M. act as the cable guy together with Hughie the other week.

"He didn't see you." Butcher. _Always so sure of himself._

"Listen, that's easy for you to say, Butcher, but I got people."

"Oh? And I don't?" He retorted, a silent fight going between them before Butcher's eyes darted on _me_—and M.M. followed soon, sighing at what seemed to be a silent conversation I wasn't able to get.

"What?"

Butcher just shook his head. "Look, VOUGHT don't send a Supe to do a gang hit, all right? He was after the female."

"Hey, man, who was the woman?" Frenchie asked from the passenger seat, earning my full attention.

"Roberta Cho, mother of four, loved Mexican food, and _smuggled_ in a ton of immigrants from all over the Pacific."

"That explains why she's mad." I blurted out, the sight of our breakfast this morning making me shiver before hearing a girl say A-Train's name. He didn't entertain anyone, though. He just flew in his heels and disappeared right before our eyes.

"That wanker can cover all of Manhattan in 30 minutes. He's gonna find her before we do." I don't doubt that.

"No, he won't. I know where she's going." Frenchie passed around the piece of burnt paper I saw him find a while ago, displaying a name of a station and a destination. "_Penn_ _Station_. She's working her way backwards. She's trying to get home." Frenchie backed away as M.M. rounded and entered the van in a rush, Butcher then, in all his weird ways, took a hold of my hand and pulled me towards his car. His weird actions bothering me for a little before remembering I should've entered the car minutes ago.

"You comin', _sunshine_?"

"Shut up."

* * *

We reached Penn Station in no under than half an hour with all the annoying traffic of New York. All those time, I tried to ignore Butcher as best as I can and he was fairly participating on our little game. I don't hate him—exactly like the other day. I hate him less, but that doesn't mean he's a hundred percent cleared. It's just like before. We tolerate each other enough to stay in one place, in peace.

"Well? Don't leave us hanging." Butcher spoke as we walk inside the subway like mindless chickens, following on M.M. that just finished talking on the phone.

"Okay, so Deshawn's a brother that grew up on my block, but now he delivers packages."

"Yeah, not the part I'm interested in."

"Rude." I mumbled, earning a glare from the brute that I just shrugged away.

"He ran down the account number and the box containing the V came from Samaritan's Embrace." _Oh, shit_.

"Ezekiel's Supe charity?"

"That _shithead_?" Butcher and I said at the same time that earned a curious stare from my boys. "What? He's an asshole that got his fake beliefs all wrong. A shithead." Frenchie rounded his arms around my shoulders, smiling for some reason.

"Ever so graceful, _ma chérie_." I rolled my eyes but he tugged me closer.

"What the _fuck's_ that Jesus-thumping, elastic bastard got to do with it?" Our mouths and vocabulary are terribly sinned, aren't they?

"Maybe we find the girl, we find out."

"Yeah. All right." He mumbled, "Platforms, ground floor, I'll take upstairs. _Sunshine_, the subway. Whoever pings her, get onto Frenchie and stick with her till we use the gas, all right?" Everyone scrambled away though before I even get going to my side of the mission, Butcher pulled me by my arm and looked at me with a look I've never seen before.

Like he's... worried? _Or... am I just starving?_ "Careful." His hands dropped and the only thing I saw was his coat as he flew upstairs, somehow getting lost from what I was about to do from that little act when I found my footing and went to walk together with the trail of people going about the subway.

With Butcher's ungodly strange actions at the back of my head, I scanned each and everyone for a girl that may have smelled like she hadn't showered for weeks on end, or for someone exuding murderous vibes until I reached the main subway and stood by the stairs, trying to catch a glimpse of a female planning to illegally board a train.

Minute after minute, the train arriving for the second time that I try to go for the other set of stairs when hands made its way on my own, my instinct full on police mode as I had my knuckles at a ready when—when... _holy shit._ "Steven?!"

"_Alison!_ This is unexpected!" You've got to be shitting me. "I—uh, haven't heard from you since last night. Is everything okay?" Alright, he cares. Another point of which my sane self could've considered and went on to date him, the only guy that doesn't hate the entire world and isn't a revengeful bastard that doesn't trust me—but then again... is he going to be happy with me?

Am I going to be happy with... _him_?

If I think of it without considering my current line of occupation, my past life, or the things I've done now ever since the boys, I would not have to think of being with him in a heartbeat. He was overly... kind, a family-oriented man, and in just one night with him, I learned so much about him.

But—is it right? "I-I'm sorry, I've been really busy. Work's been pretty demanding lately." He smiled at me, as though a smile that could light the whole freaking world.

"It's okay. I understand. Mine, too! You won't believe what happened today at work—"

"Alice!" My hands froze, not noticing it was still within his grasp when a gruff voice called from behind, his mere presence already making himself known when he stood just right beside me. Enough to establish a dominance over my whole life.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ "I—I'm sorry? Who are you?" My hands then left Steven's grasp when Butcher pulled me from my arms, his eyes never failing the sharpness and stung to it. It could slice Steven in half if he so much as wanted to.

"His _husband_. And I suggest that you scurry away, boy. And never _fuckin_' go near her ever again." I was fuming and Steven did not waste a second when he looked at me like that—like a betrayed man filled with guilt I almost rushed and apologize to him if it weren't for the asshole beside me halting my steps.

"What the hell was that for!" I pushed him with all my might, for all I care do we gather attention from everyone. It makes me so mad—it makes me hella mad.

I know, I don't like him well enough to be with him but that was not the way to turn him down. It's just... not! "How's about you focus on our job and stop seeing that _son of a bitch_! You don't even like him!" It was beyond me how he knew of it and beyond me how he thinks he could just do the shit he's done without hesitations.

"You don't get a say on what happens to my personal life. I'm not Hughie! Not M.M. Not Frenchie! You can't just control me whenever you want, _asshole_!" I pushed him again, enough of a force for him to be as far away from me as possible when I bounded up the stairs and received a message from Frenchie.

_'Tec Store'_

"Can't just shag anyone you don't even know, _sunshine_." I could not believe my ears.

"_Fuck you,_ Butcher."

"The hell are you so mad for?! I'm just saving you a heartbreak—" I turned, grabbing him from his collar that I pointed a finger over his face with raging eyes.

"I did not—shag him. We didn't do anything because—because I wanted to get to know him. To get to know someone... that's interested in me... that doesn't know me. _Who I am."_

To think I almost un-hate him. Only for me to hate him even more.

We never spoke of it upon rushing to the store together with M.M. where we saw an agitated Frenchie—and no sign of the female anywhere.

"Frenchie. Did you see her? Which way did she go?" Butcher asked.

"I don't know." _Oh, no._

"Did you try to gas her?"

"No." _Oh, shit._

"Why not?"

"It didn't seem right, huh?" His intuition is either going to kill him—or kill him and us, too.

"You went off plan because it didn't seem right?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" It's the first I ever heard him apologize while still agitated as he run off, following his footsteps soon and catching up to him as we all looked around for the female I don't even know what she looked like. It was almost spit-balling. The closest girl that looked like she doesn't know where she's going.

"So where's the girl, Frenchie? Since you're the psycho chick whisperer all of a sudden." I hate to be laughing at unintended jokes right now. I hate it.

"Maybe subway. Maybe she wants to find a train, no?" I should've stayed down. I could scope out a wider perimeter if it wasn't for us huddling together to pressure Frenchie.

"Oh, yeah? How deep up your ass did you pull that out?" Here we go again.

"Well, it depends. How deep does your tongue go?" _The fuck!?_

"Listen, you lost her, man. We had orders, we're supposed to follow them. We're professionals and we count on each other. But you're on some _fucking_ bohemian flaky drug shit. Even Hughie, who's a _fucking_ white Urkel, is more professional than you."

"Shut up!" I muttered, although useless when Frenchie spoke again.

"I understand it's hard for someone who's anally OCD to understand."

"Okay, then help me understand, Frenchie. What happened the night that Mallory had you tail Lamplighter?"

"Shut up, M.M." I said, not really one for uncovering a past we decided to bury while in the middle of a train station filled with lots of people overhearing the damn conversation.

"Mallory was our boss, man. We had orders. And you were supposed to follow him. You were supposed to follow Lamplighter, tail him, but you let him go."

"M.M. Don't." I looked to Butcher to stop the catfight when I saw him far away and I wasn't about to follow him. Not when I'm still pissed off by everything going wrong today.

"And Lamplighter goes and torches Mallory's grandkids." _When are they going to stop?_

"I didn't know."

"It doesn't matter. You didn't follow orders and it costs some lives." Frenchie went first for the blow, the two in a plan to kill each other that there—I almost popped a vein.

"Hey, hey. Knock it off." Butcher placed himself in the middle but they were very, very persistent that then and there... I finally exploded.

"**_Stop!_**" I yelled, my voice almost ringing on my own ear that gathered a few more attention for all I care. I was pissed. I don't wanna hear about what transpired years ago. And we all shouldn't be fighting about things we couldn't change. _That's that._

"You know what? _Fuck_ this, Butcher. And _fuck_ you. I'm done!" M.M. spared me an apologetic glance before he turned his back and started walking away. I could almost feel myself be more in rage by the minute when he spoke again.

"You said this time would be different. But this _motherfucker's_ still here doing the same old shit. And we're all gonna _fucking_ end up like Mallory." I hate that. I hate how... how our past always bites us in the back even now. Even today when I thought things are starting to be different—at least better than before.

"Oi, both of you. M.M." Butcher called as the two were about to leave, and while I was left standing there, almost getting dizzy from anger.

"What?"

"What's Sporty Spice up to?" _Wait—what?_

"Who?"

"Sporty _fucking_ Spice. What is she up to?" _Spice_... Spice Girls?

"I don't know." M.M. drew closer.

"Exactly. How about Posh? You know what she's doing?" Butcher then turned to Frenchie, gathering his attention from questions—out of this world.

"I don't understand."

"Making clothes for anorexics. Right? Not exactly a growth market. And Baby? You know what she's doing? _Fuck_ all. Not even page six of the Daily Mail." Huh, that's a fact. "And Scary Spice? Up to her eyeballs in lawsuits and sex tapes." That's—information far up the alley of a fan girl—in Butcher's case, a _fan boy_. "Ginger, on the other hand, has released three albums. _Passion, Schizophonic and Scream If You Wanna Go Faster_. They'll all make your ears bleed." Not an ideal name for an album.

"You see, when they're apart, they're absolute _fucking_ rubbish. But, you put them together, they're the goddamn _fucking_ Spice Girls." That's... that's the analogy?

"How do you know so much about the Spice Girls?" I mumbled, confused and angry and confused again.

"Look, the point is, that we're all shite by ourselves. We need each other. We need each other, or we're _fucking_ dead in the water." Butcher laid his eyes on me, pursing his lips together before he sighed and looked away. "Now, you guys can beat the living _fucking_ shit out of each other, I really don't care, it ain't gonna change the past."

"We left it there and buried it. It's time it stays down under." I interjected as the pair looked at me with eyes filled with more guilt. It's time they understand Butcher's point. The point of past and letting it stay dead.

"What do you say we go find that dirty little bitch, gas her ass, then get the _fuck_ out of here?" Butcher strode away, leaving us all three still incredibly befuddled on how he came by his point and how it's the next best thing he said without insinuating innuendos to us and conceitedness.

"Jesus, he gives the worst pep talks." M.M. said, following after our leader that Frenchie rounded his arms again on my shoulders as we join the others.

"He really, really does." First time again that they agreed on something.

_It's a miracle in disguise of a Spice Girl analogy._

We went down from where I was previously stationed before I got pissed to my shit. My eyes scouting the whole perimeter until—well, we come across a girl in her pajamas, his hair frizzy as the hair gods could despise, and a face so dirty she's almost indistinguishable. If this isn't her, I don't know what the hell the female would look like. "Her?" I mumbled as we stood there, waiting for a moment to strike without harming anyone else.

"Mhm." M.M. replied that just then, the female started backing away to run from where she came, our shoulders banging to everyone until we saw her jump to the tracks to fast for us.

But there was a sound, one that's familiar to everyone who hears it day by day, one _whoosh_ and the female's figure was gone from our eyes. "A-Train." We followed the way to the other side, hoping to hell the female was murderous enough to face a running bastard when we heard sound of banging from a wall far from where the platform ends. Already far from our reach and we can't exactly jump on the tracks.

"Let's go." Butcher knew defeat when he saw it and I was not one to agree soon when I saw how persistent Frenchie was on getting the girl. Maybe he really did see something in her. A crazy intuition we didn't know if it'd worth to something. "Forget it, mate. She's _fucked_."

"No—not yet." Frenchie faced me, "He's a goddamn celebrity in a public place." We had a chance and Frenchie took it when he shouted his name. Repeatedly until he gathered just enough of everyone's attention.

"_Over here! Look, everybody! It's A-Train right over here!_" The banging on the wall stopped and Butcher pulled us away from the platform to a door which says no trespassing. Entering a dark hallway we shouldn't be in and hearing footsteps just enough to catch up to a bloody female on a murderous stance.

At times like this, it's not advisable to stand here and wait for her to fight back. "No. Let me talk to her." And it was about enough of time to act friendly.

"Don't be _fucking_ stupid."

"What if she's a Spice Girl?"

"Bite you back, didn't it?" I mumbled, Butcher's analogy making him look stupid right about now I was enjoying it until Frenchie started walking near the female.

They were a bit far for us to hear and the only thing we know, Frenchie was pinned down that Butcher had to gas both of their idiot asses. Witnessing a passed out Frenchie and the female right above him.

_"She ain't no Spice Girl."_


	18. Q

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an exclusive update for u guys!!! I didn’t uploaded this yet on my wattpad so let me know how u feel about this chapter! 
> 
> Thank u so, so much for your love for SUNSHINE! I haven’t been able to reply to the comment but I’d like u to know that I appreciate it so much :——)))

**IT'S BEEN A LONG DAY AND I WANT A 24-HOUR SLEEP.**

The remnants of the gas that knocked out our French friend and the murderous female was still lingering on my nose I was very lucky not to have passed out the same. It smelled so horrible my eyes almost watered along the way of helping what's left of the boys carry them up to the van where we all huddled together at an empty establishment that's supposed to be our hideout now. And god forbid would I actually hide out in this shithole when I've got my old apartment back now.

At least _some_ _things_ are getting back to normal.

"Where are you off, _sunshine_?" I never answered to the ghost that spoke behind me when I hoisted my bag on the mission to finally go home. I wanted to forget what he's done awhile ago back at the station. I wanted to forget how he thought of me so low, how he turned down the only man scarcely interested in a persona that has never done all of these, and _maybe_ even my shot to happiness.

I'm getting older. And yet I never dabbled in things I should have done many years ago.

Maybe that's why I stumbled upon **Billy Butcher.** Because he and I are cut on the same fiber of cloth destined for loneliness and sorrow.

I could still remember that day as clear as my deepest hatred for what he's become. I could still remember my days being an honest Federal agent. They were nothing but peaceful. Handing out cases after cases with all of its glory. My life consisted of finishing a mission, drinking a beer at a pub for celebration, and slamming my face on my very, very comfortable king size bed shared with no one else but myself. I never wandered away from my successful life. Never wandered from the comfort of putting the assholes behind bars nor the sweet, sweet sound of justice.

But then, I met him.

He was as kind as he could be the first time we spoke. The English accent far too deep within his gravelly voice, his beard absolutely stuck to his damn face then and now, and his inexplicable love for his then-girlfriend. Like a lion that fell in love with a lamb. They were beyond the cutest it almost made me pondered about having my own. _Pondered_.

And that's also the very day I accepted a _partner_.

We were immediately tasked on a mission that's supposed to have killed me then and there—not when he shot the bastard right between his eyes and offered a hand to me. He was smirking, a bit proud of himself that I knew then, he was going to be a very important part of my life. _And he was._

Although, not long after treading the treacherous sea of bastards and assholes, after every beers every night, and every third-wheeling on a Spice Girls concert I have done and surprisingly enjoyed in my whole life? Everything went downhill in just a mere blink of an eye.

Butcher lost his job, his grasp in life, and _her_.

He's the same—yet also very different.

"Alice." _Speaking of the devil_. "Alice, look at me." He demanded, as though the tone of his voice could coax me into following each and every one of them. Unfortunately for him, I was not a dog.

"At least let me drive you home." He spoke again, this time I was certain he was closer to me than before that I finally turned, arms crossed and eyes as sharp as an eagle. I want it to be known that even if a lot of things had changed—a myriad of things that we could never bring back and do again, I was still not one to be messed with and he was probably shitting himself if he thinks otherwise.

"Why?" I asked, plain and simple.

"'Cause I doubt standing in the dark at midnight is gonna get you a cab." Fair point. "And why the hell did you think I was not gonna do that?" He stated as though there was a written contract that I'm his _responsibility_.

"Maybe it's because you've been looking at me like a goddamn girl that doesn't think she could handle herself perfectly?" I followed his strides though, not risking my well-being in the middle of the streets with Supes high off of their fuckin' asses at a nice Friday night. It's one thing actually being wary of criminals, it's another if its a bumbling stupid supe.

"Now why would I think that?" Butcher replied sarcastically I stopped the urge from punching his lights out when we both entered the car. I pushed myself far back to the door as a way of avoiding even being near his personal space. Or just his cold aura radiating in the air.

"You and I both know you're over-controlling things you shouldn't even have." He started the car and I wished what I said was carefully sinking into him the longer the car ride got.

"I just want you to be safe, Alice." He murmured, low enough for me to hear while the cold air of a bright and alive New York nipped my skin.

"I'm safe. I was safe even before you saw me again. And I'll be safe with whatever it is that I do."

"I know."

"Then why are you stubbornly hovering over my life?! You're worse than a helicopter parent and that's saying a hell of a lot." Damn Butcher sneered and I was near having a fit.

"I don't want ya to get hurt." I opened my mouth to say something. Anything possibly offensive or loud or just yell out of frustration when he spoke again, this time? It felt like a huge slap in the face. "**Twat's married**. Got himself a kid on the way and I'm not outta let you cross that fuckin' mess, Alice."

"_Oh_."

"Yeah, _oh_. Your fed skills are gettin' rusty now, are ya?"

"_Fuck you_." The silence enveloped us while he drove faster than the limit on the freeway. Allowing the air to brush the hell off of my embarrassment for not knowing a vital information about a guy, for missing a complete sense of humor just because I thought it was high time to have a partner in my life. Not just a partner in the bad things, the good things, too. Someone that I'll get home to. Someone... _just someone._

"Thanks for getting my old flat back." I mumbled, forgetting that I haven't thank him for such an unexpected gesture. Well, maybe I thought of it on some point but then again, Butcher and I are unpredictable. That is a proven fact. He does things beyond my comprehension and I was left to do the most unexpected reactions because of it.

"Anythin' for you, _sunshine_." I smiled, almost feeling a sense of familiarity over the night skies and the awfully silent car rides.

"Do you still remember that night in Jersey?" Butcher cracked a smile while I was near laughing.

"Fuckin' hell. You almost drove us in a ditch!"

"That's because you can't shut up about some government conspiracy! I was very determined on crashing the car on a tree, in all honesty." We laugh, as though we never even fought and this was it. The thing I was very fond of on this whole ride with him was we never really fought in a deeper level. I hate him, in a sense of how angry he's become to the world yet I don't hate him for all the good things he's trying to be. He may not say it but I can see it in his eyes. I know him.

I know Butcher well enough than he knew himself and that—_that's scary as shit_. "If you must know, _sunshine_. All of it turned out to be true and you were gonna kill me for it."

I rolled my eyes, "For what it's worth, the trip to Jersey was fun, Butcher." We got to eliminate our targets in the quietest way as possible and we were awarded a whole weekend out of it. That's the meaning of fun for me.

"It was." He replied, my eyes darting to the road when slowly, it was becoming more and more familiar. No—not the way to the motel Hughie and I shared. It's the familiar way of my old home when I was still in the force living a normal life as normal as it could get.

"B-Butcher—"

"Mrs. Tilly phoned me and said the couple left earlier than expected. Said she's got the flat all cleaned up for the next occupant." Butcher grinned while I was stunned out of my arse. I was not mentally ready to see my old flat again yet when he drove to the corner of the street, there displayed the street I used to jog around all the way to the small and modern styled complexes of apartment of which I chose deliberately for its friendly surroundings. I was never really fond of loud noises and this place? This was heaven for me.

And Butcher drove me straight to it.

The car stopped in front of the building and while he went out of the car, I stayed still inside. I was not overreacting when I say this is too much for me. One, the flat brings back too many memories I couldn't even count. Two, it brought nostalgic feelings of what my life had been before. And third, well, it's been... so long.

"You alright?" Butcher peaked by the window and I looked at him.

"If this is your way of making it up with me, it's not gonna work, Billy Butcher." He chuckled, shaking his head as he opened the door for me and laid his hands.

"Come on." He bobbed his head and I was left with no other choice when I laid my hands in his and soon, pulled me inside the building as if he was more excited than I was.

The lobby was simple. Low yellow lights with sofas and rugs as old as I couldn't even identify. There's a small booth by the left where an old lady was doing her crosswords puzzle like she always have done. I never saw her do anything other than that and I've seen her a lot going in and out of my place before. "Mrs. Tilly! Ain't you glad to see me?" Butcher laid his hands and the old lady beamed brightly from her booth. Giving us the widest of smiles it felt more familiar every step we took.

"Billy _goddamn_ Butcher. My love, you've changed!" She went out of the booth and gave her a hug, her eyes darting right at me that she widened her eyes and gasp. "Gosh, dear! Alicia, welcome back!" She gave me one of her best grandma hug I couldn't remember when I was last hugged like this. And Butcher looked at me funnily I was really ready to throw that punch. "My, my, you've grown so much!"

"Twenty-six is not old, Mrs. Tilly!" I jokingly rolled my eyes and she laughs,

"No. No, it's not! Oh—" She gasp again, hurrying back to the booth where she placed a paper bag by the counter and a set of keys. "As requested." She said, turning to Butcher who only sheepishly smiled as he carried the bag.

I was utterly confused. What was requested? "I'm sure you've been meaning to check the flat now. It's been taken care of since the day you left and I promise you, not one thing has changed, dear."

"Thank you, Mrs. Tilly. You've been really good to me." She cupped my face with her warm hands and Butcher pulled me from the counter. Waving one last time to the landlady as we treaded up the stairs on the way to the second and last floor of the building. My door being at the far end of the hall where when Butcher did the honor of opening? My heart burst in so much happiness.

"Holy _fucking_ shit." It didn't change, I shit you not. Everything from the toned down beige wallpaper, to the vase beside the door where I used to put my keys in, and from the green sofa I almost swear was brought from the 80's but fit right in the entirety of the room. "It feels like—"

"—you never left?" Butcher finished the sentence for me that I made my way towards him, looking at him as though I don't know much how to thank him when he smirked and huffed. "I know." He replied, like he heard what I had in mind that I merely smiled and toured myself around the flat like it's the first time.

The black kitchen counters, to the small dining table that still has that chipped by the corner when I was drunk and thought it's a good idea to wear heels around my home. Safe to say I almost lost a tooth. "Everythin' good?" Butcher asked from the living room, hearing a pop from there that when I appeared from the kitchen did I see him holding a bottle of wine.

"What the hell?"

"What's a house warming party without a little bottle of red?" He lifted two red cups from the bag, as though we were drinking beer from a college frat party that I laughed. "Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, _sunshine_. This is all Mrs. Tilly has."

"Do you think Mrs. Tilly goes to frat parties?" He handed me the other and poured the wine however impractical it looked like, laughing at my insinuation that he shook his head about.

"Well, if she does, she's a fuckin' legend, that is. Eighty and still kickin' it off with prissy boys." He laid the bottle back down as we made for a toast, drinking wine like I haven't before the taste lingered on my tongue that it took two more sips before I got used to it.

Then we sat at the sofa, our feet by the wooden table before he finally spoke again. "It's been pretty fuckin' crazy lately, huh?"

"Yeah." I mumbled, drinking out of the bottle when I was too lazy to reach for the cup. "I never thought I'll be with you boys again when I told you I was only going to join you for one day." He huffed, "And I almost did—yet you made it hard to go, once again."

He grabbed the bottle from my hands, drinking out of it like I did. We were two lazy souls, indeed. "It's 'cause I need ya." He blurted out like he was just telling me he farted I almost choked on my own saliva.

"You weren't gonna stop until I finally go."

Butcher shook his head, "Nope." I laugh a little as he handed me back the wine.

"You're a persistent motherfucker, Billy Butcher."

"You love it."

"And an asshole." He looked at me I was afraid at first I offended him when his look says different. As if he'd been meaning to say something he couldn't. And I didn't want to pass up whatever question that may be. I'm a mess, and I have an inquisitive soul. It was a curse. "What?" I drank, two times before passing the wine it took a bit more pressing before he finally looked tick about making him say it.

"What the hell have you seen on that twat anyway?" And he finally said it.

"A lot, actually. Except that he's married." I laugh, masking the truth to it all when Butcher remained stoic. Like he—really wanted to know and I was far from liking it. I didn't wanna talk about it for the reason that it signified a failure I didn't wanna have on my resume.

But like I just said, the asshole was persistent and the wine was doing its wonders on my weak tolerance.

"Fine. He's good looking. Is that what you wanna hear?" He shook his head, confusing me even more. "What—he's... _okay_. He looked lovable at best. Uh, he's kind. He never bore me into telling stories of his life. He never... insinuated getting me to bed. He just—" _Fuck_. _Why is he making me say all of these? And why was I compliant?!_ "He didn't know me, okay? He didn't know who the hell I was and he liked me for it. And I guess I filled myself with the idea that if no one knew what I do behind closed doors, then maybe I'm at the very least, likeable."

Butcher frowned, "The fuck are you talking about?" He leaned back, like he heard an abomination from my mouth.

"Let's face it. No one's gonna like me for who I am, Butcher. I act like a man. I speak far more vile and crummy than the rest of you boys combined, and I've done for lives more than I can count. I'm miserable, sad, and alone, and the truth of it all was I was feeling sorry for myself because I could never live up to every decent girl out there—to—to his _wife_. Whatever!" I stood up, downing the wine with all my heart before I saw him snatch it up from my hands, frown lacing his forehead and my vision getting blurry by the minute.

"Alice, what the fucking hell are you talking about?!" He repeated again I was annoyed as fuck.

"I'm not very likeable, aren't I? You can't even trust me and I'm just your friend! How else would any guy—how else would anyone like me when—"

"I trust you, Alicia."

"That's not exactly what I heard back when—"

"I trust you with all my fucking life, is that what you wanna hear?"

"What I wanna hear? You're unbelievable! I'm your friend! I've been your goddamn friend since the days when you're a little less of a son of a bitch. And I hear that from you! What do you want me to feel? Honestly, tell me. Because I wanna know why you kept bitching about needing me and all and yet you can't even do a simple task of trusting me."

He pursed his lips, dragging the bottle on his lips that he walked away, thinking there for a second he's gonna bolt out again whenever he was confronted about honesties and truths when he walked right back and—_fuck_.

Billy _fucking_ Butcher slammed his lips on mine and I was going to _fucking_ pass out.

I pushed him, far. He almost slammed his back on the sofa while I held on to my lips. Filled with shock my heart was going to pound out of my chest but I was far—very _fucking_ far from anger. "I—I'm sorry, Alice—" I was messed up, directly up to the core that when I looked at him again, that when his coat billowed through the air as he drew near did I made a jump for it.

_And kissed him the fuck back._

I didn't know what it was. Maybe it's the red wine and my awfully low tolerance, or the intoxicating feeling of his grasp holding on to mine. Maybe it was that his lips tasted like grapes, or how he held on to my cheeks carefully like a fragile art.

He held on to me until I was slammed on my back against the bed, squeaking under our weight while I pull him closer to me. Closer than my resolve crumbling apart the more his lip melted me down. The more did I felt the needing, the insatiable hunger for more.

Facing the reality that I crave for it for so long I was lost on my mind when he filled me with desire of being close into his arms.

Billy Butcher was my paradox. I hate his wrongs but _he tasted so fucking right._

I'm fairly convinced I was gonna regret this tomorrow. I was going to regret his curses while I straddled against him, I was going to regret the way his lips showered kisses down my neck, and I was going to regret looking deep in his eyes with the same longing and craving for the things I've kept buried for my own sanity.

There was no going back and I was _royally fucked._

**Literally**.


	19. R

**I SINCERELY THOUGHT IT WAS A DREAM.**

I woke up, my head aching terribly like a bitch and my hair all over the goddamn place that when I finally reached in to fix it did I only notice that there's something heavy on my arms, stopping it—and all the parts of my body from even moving. Sincerely considering I was tied up in a bed and kidnapped if not for the warmth and familiar scent I could sniff through—and for the reality that's bound to bite my ass in the back again and again.

He was sleeping soundly while our bodies were tangled—and naked—and were covered merely by the sheets that for some reason was removed from the bed. I watched him though, this close in proximity while sinking in the fact that we did something we probably shouldn't have. It could've been solely the wine's fault for creating a tension between us last night that ended in something—I wanted to regret yet at the far back of my mind... it couldn't... it didn't want to regret it.

But I made it stay hidden from my consciousness. Finding my grasp beneath his strong arms that when I thought I finally made it out of the maze did he only pull me back closer to his warmth my heart nearly jumped and made a run for it. "It's too fuckin' early, Alice. Sleep." I squirmed from where I lay. My chest deliberately pounding I wonder if he could hear it.

But then he decided to bury his face on my shoulder, all my hairs raising up as he did I was certain I sealed my death warrant last night. Because Billy fucking Butcher will be the death of me.

It was—a mess. I was a mess.

I was in hell of it all. "Butcher—"

"Just sleep, Alicia." He says exasperatedly, his breath causing more hairs from my arm to raise, as if using my real name would suddenly make it all the more better. If he could only see, I'm near bursting, but in a very bad way. "You look stupid fuckin' breathin' like that." He finally opened his eyes to goad on me that I rolled my eyes and slammed his chest with my fist. Yet he still stayed within his comfy position of hugging me as if we've been doing it for years.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"It's already done, I'm afraid so."

"You shouldn't be hugging me."

"Well, tough shit."

"Why the hell are you so fucking cool with it?" I kicked off his leg that he laughed and spared me a glance before finally untangling his arms and leg with me, leaning his back against the headboard and reaching down to retrieve his pack of cigarettes. He offered me one which I was not in the place to refuse when I sit up covered in a pillow, lit it up and inhaled almost instantly.

"Should we be shaking our hands off to never speak of it again or what?" I blew out a smoke and suggested. Figuring it would've been best to forget all about it since, well, things aren't so good between our lives. Things are still left opened, there's still much to heal, and I felt Butcher was not close to closure of it all.

"You don't wanna speak of it again?" I darted my eyes over him as he did with mine. A long staring competition that fluttered my chest into making me do something about it again when I looked away and pushed myself back.

It felt so wrong. And so dreadfully right. "Y-Yeah." I urged myself to say even if it didn't sit right with me. Making my stomach churn in all the wrong places that I crushed the cigarette on the ash tray and stood up. Brushing my hair away and fumbling around my clothes on the floor. Ignoring a lingering stare over me that I entered the bathroom with no other words.

"Alice." He called before I turned to knob for the shower. Bolting inside the bathroom I dumbly forgot to lock and clinging on luck when I was covered by the shower curtain.

"What the fuck—Butcher! Get out!" I could hear him snicker, trying to find a way to cover myself when I come up short with nothing. Absolutely nothing.

This day is not—not working out for me at all.

"Twenty bucks." He said.

"Twenty bucks what?"

"I bet you twenty bucks you'll kiss me again."

"What the fuc—"

And I fucking did.

* * *

It was horse shit to believe that after our little fiasco, things would eventually go back to the way it was.

But after bolting away from the apartment after we did it for the second time—I ran. Literally to the other side of the road where I luckily saw a cab and didn't wait to see his face again. I told the driver to step on it as if I was in a car chase and I only got a breather soon when I saw the hotel Hughie and I shared.

I regret it. I really do. Yet this time, I had nothing to blame it to other than my own self because I didn't think we're still drunk from the crappy wine last night. There was a choice for me to say yes or no and I listened to the fucking devil, making Butcher seemed like I don't know him all my life and that we never had a past to conquer before kissing him like that.

I feel awful for the rest of the day and not even Hughie's incessant knocking and conversation took me away from the daze until he said something that made my nerves climb up to my head once more. "Butcher says we gotta go to Ezekiel's Expo today."

I wasn't offered a choice in any way when M.M. drove up in front of the hotel with a rental car, threatening to barge my door if I didn't move an inch. The very reason why I was at the backseat sitting alone on the comforts of Butcher being nowhere to be found. "He's gonna take his own ride to the expo. I'm surprised you're not riding with him." M.M. eyed me through the rear-view mirror that I merely rolled mines and snuck myself even closer by the door. Resting my throbbing head from thinking just how I would act around a man I didn't mean to sleep with.

It wasn't just any guy I could ignore with a heartbeat. It was my supposed partner through thick or thin. The one still married to his lost wife and the one with something to square with the world. A complicated slippery slope to be in and I wish the earth would just swallow me whole.

It didn't take long though, for that wish to be wished harder when we reached the open field where they'd be gathering the Expo. There were a myriad of tents and stalls selling merchandise from a religion head by an asshat who could stretch his limbs. Crosses, and bibles, and posters plastered with Supe's faces and Ezekiel's. It was a whole load of shit, an advertisement hidden in the guise of a tight-knit religion. It's safe to say that they've got a lot of people fooled when there's really tons who's still entering even after there's already someone singing at the front stage.

I stuck closer to M.M. when Hughie left to go see Starlight. Butcher was nowhere to be found in my relief while we ate hotdogs, and it hurts my eyes to keep looking around for the devil lurking about. "You know, I've been guarding up the boys back in juvie for so long to know when their head's not in the right place." I frowned at him. "We're on a mission but you seem like you have another one in mind." Yes, I do. To keep away from Butcher for as long as I could, but he didn't have to know that.

"You woke me up, your fault my mind's still half-asleep." He huffed.

"Whatever it is, keep it intact, Alice. We got a V to look for." It reminded me then of why we were here in the first place. That night took a toll on me so much to forget the ultimate reason why we're back together and I tried to keep my head back in the game. I fixed up my baseball cap, all big glasses covering almost the half of my face just to disguise myself enough not to be noticed or seen by anyone that might know me. Not even the girl Hughie's currently—dating, if that's what he calls it.

"Oh, good. Just in time." My ears peaked to what he said that instantly, my head darted over at my back and prayed to Ezekiel's holy hell so hard to be swallowed by the whole earth than stand here.

Growing up in a vast world on a fast-paced environment giving zero fucks to anything and anyone, I've never been this flustered to see anyone in my life. And I have dated quite a bunch before—slept with people I don't know, and met a few that stayed a little longer than the rest. They've all been a part of me one way or another no matter how disgusting that might've sound like but never—never have I ever been so shy... so weirded out about sleeping with anyone.

Except Billy Butcher.

"Hey. I gotta get some refreshments." I immediately elbowed M.M. and left the scene so fast, hearing only my name called last and ignored it altogether while heaving through my deepest core.

How do I fix this mess I caused to myself? Just—how?

"Think you could run and I won't follow, didn't ya?" Oh, for god's sake— "I'm offended you think I was gonna let you ran off and dodge me." Grabbing the cold lemonade from the stand, I turned with a sighed and faced Butcher in all his Hawaiian shirt almightiness while dramatically clutching to his chest. "What? Just 'cause you and I did a little do—" I covered his mouth instantly at the view of M.M. a little close to us while he spoke with a priest. Because divulging that information to anyone would be the actual death of me.

"Shut up, Butcher! Just shut up about it!" My head's full of thoughts now as it is and it doesn't help that I could still feel his hands clutching tight on my waist. I had to literally shook my head to get it somewhere else.

But he really was a persistent asshole. The man in front of me stood high, his chest right up and his jaw visibly clenched. With a hint of scratch at the base of his neck I looked away and pretend it wasn't from my nail. Definitely not. "Did you hate it?" That's a question worth asking. From avoiding him and staying out of his way, I never really knew if I hate what we did or I hate it just because it was him. Just because he still has an unfinished business. A lot, for that matter, and I allowed myself to ride the rollercoaster of his personal hell.

"Butcher—"

"Answer me, sunshine. Did you hate it?" Even from our dark glasses could I still feel his gaze over me that I cowered down and shrugged.

"I guess not." To be really honest? I don't hate it. What we did. Only limited to that agenda. The rest? I might.

"Then what the fuckin' hell are you gripin' about?"

"Doesn't mean I don't hate it, that it's right. Do you understand that, Butcher? We were drunk off of our asses, I guess we went beyond the moment, and did something really stupid. But it's not right." He opened his mouth to say anything—something that might change my mind—but I didn't let him. "I'm sure you know all well why we're out in this unforgiving heat in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, blackmailing a Christian slut. We're here because of your reason. For her."

Hughie arrived just in time to alleviate the growing tension. My skills of turning my grimace into a bright happy one appearing in one click as he drew close and told us about Starlight. M.M. finally included himself, and our conversation was over and thrown out of the window soon when Butcher glanced at me one final time and transformed himself into another man just like I did.

We're really good at this.

Ezekiel appeared at the stage just as we were talking about possible strategies to go about today. We decided to tune in to whatever it is that he has to stay while Butcher and I stood at the far end of each side. Away from each other, and faced with a reality that it truly is—wrong.

"Two twats at every entrance, armed to holy hell. In church. Well, that's America for you, innit?" He mumbled lowly, just enough to reach my ear that my eyes darted over the security just waiting to strike whenever they deemed it fitting. I guess I'm not surprised. Not when VOUGHT's here.

"And God's watching from up above." M.M. added, pointing over the cameras up to every direction swiping slowly to us that I kept my head low. "Right there. Over there."

"And VOUGHT is everywhere." I finally mused, "Securities dressed in casual clothes. So, keep your voices down and look ahead." The boys followed my command the minute my eyes glazed over the surroundings and found that people walking over the crowd were not just ordinary attendees. I've worked there far too long to know they could've place at least fifteen people on the perimeter to scope around.

"So let me ask you something: Why could Jesus walk on water? Why does Homelander fly?" Asked the bastard who compares themselves with the almighty. "How about A-Train, why does he get to run the way he runs? Or how do I get to hold the whole world in my loving embrace?" His arm stretched out in a manner of which could remind of all the times I've seen him in the den and I would vomit if I could.

"No, thank you." Hughie huffed at my low answer and some girl looked behind and scrunched up his brows to me. "The fuck are you lookin' at?" Her eyes widen at the size of ping pong balls before M.M. pulled me away from the scene altogether as we finally left the crowd.

"Calm your shit, alright?" M.M. said as Hugh handed me a flyer that came from Butcher. There's a VIP Experience going on in this church meeting enchilada and he's making so much money off of it for charging a person fifteen thousand, just to meet him. Who does he actually think he is?

"There's not an easier, cheaper way for us to get to him?" Hughie asked while we walk away from Ezekiel's insufferable stage presence.

"We ain't getting to Ezekiel. You are." Excuse me?

"I am?"

"Whoa, whoa, wait. What?"

"I second the whoa—and what?" Is Butcher losing his mind just because of recent events or is that just really him?

"Well, Starlight's one of the headliners, right? She'll get you in." And the man refused to look at me now. Wow. He's being a goddamn child.

"Look, we've only been on, like, a date and a half, okay? I can't just ask her for a Diamond Club Pass." I opened my mouth to intrude when Butcher spoke again.

"What's the matter? You worried your fake Supe girlfriend's gonna think you're using her?"

"Okay, then what? I just go up to Ezekiel, "Hey, man. What's up with you smuggling blue dope into Chinatown basements?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Once you show him this." I almost laughed if he didn't show his phone and played a video that could induce severe nausea by Ezekiel the good Christian making out with two men at either of his stretchy limbs all while—yeah, it's not worth describing, nor watching.

"Jesus. This is from that club you took me to?"

"You remembered our first night together. I'm touched." Fucking sarcasm.

"Okay, why is this the first time I'm hearing about this plan?" I pointed to M.M. and still, the ten-year-old man in the guise of a brutal brute refused to look at me. "This kid needs to be trained up, Butcher."

"Yeah. Yeah, what he said. I—I don't know how to blackmail anybody."

"Hughie, you've done a murder." Butcher said, as if that was an achievement that could make everyone an instant professional psychopath.

"A small accidental murder, might I add." I had to intrude, had to say what's on my mind even if he still couldn't look at me.

"Comparatively speaking, this will be a piece of cake." Butcher left at that and I stood there, rethinking all my life decisions as if I've never done it everyday. Wondering how it come all to this. How am I standing here in all this summer heat wearing a thick sweater and a hat, my sweat dripping at the side of my head all while a certain brute who I unfortunately had sex with, and a good one at that, is now pretending that I don't exist.

"Is there beer in here?!" I'm gonna need a fuck ton.

* * *

"Alice? Hey, Alice!" My head swirled around merrily at the sight of Hughie holding on a piece of paper as he walked quickly towards my direction at the side of the field. It was riddled with people, all that I've manage to be fake friends with while carrying a tumbler of secret liquid inside.

"I-Is that beer? How did you get beer here?" Yes, the secret liquid is beer.

"Oh! I got it from the teenagers right there. They snuck in some and I paid them handsomely for every alcohol they have." My lips formed a grinned that the boy only chuckled with as he handed me what apparently was the ticket he could've acquire by... "Oh, Hughie..." He pursed his lips and shrugged, sitting right beside me as the evident look of regret displayed clear as a glass. "Is she mad at you?"

"Disappointed, I guess." I offered him an encouraging tap as I handed back the ticket he won over disappointing his crush. "Tough love, huh? It's what we get in this ever-so annoying field." One swig from the tumbler and the familiar taste of alcohol laced my tongue.

"Are you and Butcher okay?" I frowned at his sudden question, "Well... I noticed you weren't exactly together-together like you always do." Are we really like that? "And he seemed ten times as grouchy as he usually was."

"We're okay, Hugh. It's fine. Just some petty thing we fought over." It had to be brushed away or the time I spent forgetting all about it over two tumblers of alcohol would be worth nothing. "Where are they anyway?"

"M.M.'s right by the food stalls, says Butcher left after a phone call and I was hoping to find you there. Get some crash course into blackmailing." That's the first time I heard it.

**Crash Course to Blackmailing a Supe 101.**

"Oh. Okay, yeah. Well," Hughie looked too eager for his own good and I feel so much like a bad influence now more than ever, "—first lesson is don't look so unsure about yourself. You know? Keep your head up high, quit stammering, and look the person in the eye no matter how he disgusts you." i.e. Ezekiel doing nasty stuffs with men and the likes while preaching high above.

"Second lesson, approach is important so you don't do it rashly, or if there's still a civilian in the perimeter. You have to make sure you're all alone and if there couldn't be a chance, then make one. You have to. It's the only time he'll be alone. So, better do it quick." It wasn't as easy as I thought to teach about blackmailing because usually to me and what I've done before, it's like a walk in the freaking park. Yet knowing the boy's heaving capabilities in midst of severe panic, I do not have high hopes for this mission. "Hughie, it's not gonna be easy but you have to be firm, alright? You have to scare his shit out of the window. Throw him under the bus. Make him believe you have something against him even if you don't. Be _fucking_ evil."

I was going to volunteer keeping an eye out for him but before I could, my phone rang immediately and displayed a name I haven't seen since—almost a decade ago. A name I would never expect in a million years to ever call me for anything. Not after everything that happened. "I'll wait. Take the call." I nodded about, leaving my tumbler at him as I walk a little further into a safe clearing before answering it.

And I didn't speak at first, thinking maybe she accidentally dialed my number but... _[Hey, Alicia?]_

"R-Rachel? Is everything okay? What's going on?"

_[I need your help with Billy.]_

"What happened to him? Is he okay? Is he—"

[_I—I don't know how he heard it but we decided to have a memorial for Becca. A headstone in her memory because it's been eight years, Alicia. Eight years. And it's time. We can't keep waiting for nothing anymore. But—he heard about it. Stormed off here and looks like he's gonna get himself into trouble again._]

"I know where to find him."

_[But he could be everywhere!]_

"Where's the headstone?"


	20. S

**BILLY BUTCHER WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME.**

That's for sure. What with all his shit wrapped up in a bow while I stood by the sidelines, waiting for whenever that little box decides to explode in his face and I pick up the sorry pieces of his goddamn arse.

That's how I would perfectly describe our situation while also being equally stupid as I drank what little of beer I have left and drove straight to a cemetery in a fine and dandy summer day. For all heavens know, I could've been piss out drunk at the expo today, forgotten all about the mission, or wait out for Hughie as back up, or I could've been away from my responsibility at VOUGHT, and probably travelling through southeast asia all by the comforts of myself.

Oh, but no. I have to pick up an asshole paying a visit to his wife's headstone, and already wagering he could be kicking it off back to the ground or crying his ass off. There are a thousand of possibilities from that very colorful mind of his and one thing that didn't come to was seeing him—carrying a big fuckin' mallet.

He was standing there, over Becca's headstone carrying his last name. It was—heart wrenching to see a sight I didn't think I'd ever hold. But then again, it's an _empty_ tomb. It's nothing but a stone with a name on it. A memory. A last goodbye. To what once my friend, too. And she was nothing but nice to me. With all the love in the world she could give, she offered me a piece of it. How could you not love someone so... amazing. So... true.

I stood a little farther away in case he decides to swing the long handled mallet. Taking my chances a few feet away when I quipped a good one. "What? You're gonna rage smash a thousand dollar headstone?"

"Someone ought to. 'Cause it's fuckin' disrespectful, that is."

I huffed, going over a feet beside him as we looked at it with different viewpoints. "Quite the contrary, I believe. They made a headstone to pay respects, as I've heard from an agitated Rachel who called me after eight years." Finally, Butcher paid me a glance that I pursed my lips and sighed.

"Why'd you come here, Alice?"

"Honestly? I don't know, too. It's fine by me whatever it is you do to the headstone. Don't even know why she called me instead of the _cops_, but here I am." I sighed, "I know you. And I know this is an insult to you. To the love you have for Becca. But I'm still here, Butcher. With this around or not, I'm still gonna help you find her because, well, what the hell am I supposed to do for the rest of my days? You weren't gonna stop bugging me anyway."

"And she deserves justice. Those who wronged her should—and _will_ fuckin' pay." Butcher nodded, heaving a heavy sigh as he lowered the mallet on his hand.

"Why do you hate it so much, Alice?" I shut my eyes, not knowing if this is the perfect place to talk about it. But it seemed we weren't going anywhere. It's happening here, _now_.

"I told you why."

"Yeah. B-But if—if—" He was stammering, and Billy Butcher does not stammer ever in his life at all. _Never_.

"You okay? You comin' down with a fever or something?" I faced him, curious if he striked some deadly virus from his incessant stammering that he shooed my hands away from patting his forehead and sighed aggressively. Like he was close to bursting and I did not wanna mess with him right now. "Bu—"

"What if I don't?" _Err... huh?_ "What if I don't hate it? If I want it—"

"What?!"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Alice! Are you suddenly fuckin' deaf or what?" I backhanded his arms instantly while my eyes were wide, so wide it's gonna drop and roll in the ground from what he just said. Am I hallucinating? Drunk? High? Were there shrooms in that fucking beer?!

Really? Right here? Right now. _In front of her tombstone?!_

"What are you talking about, Billy? And for the love of heaven and hell, please do explain every word you said."

He merely smirked at my current situation and I do not like it at all. "I think you know." _No way_. "And I think you should step away, sunshine." Instinctively, my feet stumbled backwards as I watch him raise the mallet up high, and crashed it down right in the middle of the headstone. Smashing it to tiny pieces until all of it were crumbled down and dust. The stone flying every hit he made until he was contented with what he did.

And looked at me like he just won the lottery. "You feelin' alright, sunshine—"

"Fuck you, Butcher!" I stormed away, suddenly so confused of everything. Like the world just—tilted in a strange motion. Shifted my whole world together with it, taking my common sense and all the right and wrongs out in the rubble of that stone. It suddenly felt weird, all of a sudden. Like every angle was wrong and the only thing that felt right was—

"Alice." He caught my arm swiftly in one go, and there it was. Like a _fucking_ unicorn with devil horns smirking in the middle of the sunshine and rainbows.

"_Please_, Butcher. Becca—"

"—will be given justice. We'll look for her. We're gonna find her. And we'll _never_ stop."

"Exactly."

"But I know what I fucking _want_, Alice Hunt."

How do you believe that? How does anyone? How _could_ anyone? "Let's talk about this when we crossed that bridge—" His phone rang immediately, lifting pressure off from my chest as I step backwards and catch my most needed breath. Smiling at the caretaker from afar looking at us like we're some sort of fugitives rage smashing headstones for fun.

"_Fucking brilliant! I'll meet you at the hospital in half an hour."_ Butcher dropped the phone with a smug grin on his face yet again. He was back to himself, _perfect_.

"What is it?"

"Well, sunshine." He said, holding on to my shoulders that did absolutely nothing before yet _now_ made the hairs at the back of my neck raised. "Hughie got the dirt on that damn wanker!"

"No way!" My little crash course worked, maybe? I'm like a proud mother raising an evil cub.

"Turns out, the charity was a front for exporting the V to a hospital midtown. I don't know fuck all why so we're gonna find out. I hope you still have the _Nessa_ persona lyin' around there somewhere."

I scoffed, proud and boasting until he caught my hands and wrapped it around is. Forming a lump on my throat as he proceeded to pull my hands away from the graveyard and while I—poorly at that, still tried retorting the words I was suppose to say with full confidence. "O-Of course I do, asshole. I'm t-the best con artist in town!" _And kind of the stupidest one out there when I did nothing but look at our hands together like that._

Like there's nothing else wrong with our world as he held tight on it.

With no intentions of letting go if he hadn't noticed my car parked right behind his. He looked at me then, shuffling my hair that I pushed him back and walked straight there. "Fuckin' hell." I blurted loud, leaning my head against the wheel as I find my grasp amidst our little scenario back there. I didn't know what else is there to do than just—I guess, go with it. I'm here, I put myself in this mess, and I didn't think there's still a chance for me to look back.

No sir, not in the way Butcher's _smirking_ at me.

* * *

M.M. was looking at us curiously as soon as we parked right beside his van. Eyeing us so cautiously I was anxious about moving at all, though Butcher managed to flash his pearly whites right at him and everything was thrown out of the window.

We entered a hospital that looked deserted at most if it wasn't for a couple of nurses tending to people in some of the beds hidden behind large curtains. It was so few I hadn't the need to wake up my other persona called Nessa, a lovable nurse who's got the perfect husband, perfect children, and perfect personality that loves everyone and _everything_ in the world. She was the definition of sunshine and right about now? There was no way I could embody such a personality. Not when my mind was still in shambles.

Thank god then for the low amount of security that Butcher was able to swipe some nurse's ID as we walk through the dim walls.

"So, you two want to pay me the professional courtesy and tell me where the hell you disappeared to before?" M.M.'s voice reverberated on the hall that I almost froze instinctively when he darted his eyes right at me behind their towering figures. I only managed to open my mouth and would have blabbed gibberish but Butcher beat me right to it.

"I just had to pop down to the shop. I was running a bit low on mind your own fucking business." That was rude but what's there to say? How do I say, _'oh Butcher and I galloped under the fucking sunshine holding hands and all'_?

"Went out to get booze. I'm also running low on patience." I interjected, raising my empty flask that the brute merely scoffed away all while M.M. still eyed me suspiciously. And I was so used to him eyeing me suspiciously every goddamn time that I strut away from their line of vision and hopped the steps to the location given to us beforehand.

Just then, Butcher paused to his steps and held the phone by his ear, "This better be good." It didn't look like a good conversation the more he cursed and the more the frown on his forehead deepens into a scowl that would bite my head off if it wanted to. "What about the rest of us?"

"Rest of us what?" I intrude upon turning into a corner that Butcher looked at me like I had several heads.

"What about Alicia?"

Butcher uses my real name for two things:

1) He's trying to piss me off. Again.

_or_ 2) _Trouble_.

He pulled down his phone, pursing his lip that only meant bad news has to wait later. We should get our heads in the game and deal with the shit one by one. Right now, our mission has to be the main event before we haul ourselves more in this mess we've so graciously got into.

"Right here." He pointed right at a door at the far corner of the hall. It was protected with a badge entry and as soon as he scanned the one he swiped a while ago, we were welcomed by so many equipments I didn't know where to look first. Though I guess it should be properly noted that there are—literally _babies_ in here.

Newborns sleeping soundly all while...

"No way." My eyes trailed over a fluid coursing from a bag down to the child's arm, slowly but surely trickling into the system that—I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't. "Compound V?"

"Oh, yeah, and lots of it." I've seen a lot of things in my time. Been through hell and back but the worst of it all was knowing that these—supes. These people who grew up to be an asshole doing god knows what in a supe den, never really acquired their abilities from heaven above like what they're all preaching. They were... created. Deliberately. From a drug that's worse than fucking meth.

And watching these newborns practically being souped up with Compound V so unknowingly—it was a thought I refuse to fathom.

Suddenly, it's eyes blared some freaky blue light emitting a force of laser that would've torn us into wagyu pieces if it wasn't for the unbreakable glass. I'm impressed—and ten times shook out of my innermost core.

"That's a fucking baby Supe." M.M. went over me that I clenched my jaw and sighed. Circling over the machineries connected to them and almost wanting to snatch it out of their arms and give them a normal life. But then again, who knows if they've been fed by this for weeks, months on end?

We're practically too late.

"Chosen by God, _my ass_. These cunts are made in a fucking lab."

I had to sit down and think over what we're doing here. Because this is some A-class kind of shit I didn't think we'd find here. "What's next, Butcher?" I asked to the brute who stayed looking at the kid as he fumbled around the IV.

"What's next, sunshine, is we take—this." He pointed at a vial of V that I merely nodded about. I guess our next move would be where that shit takes us.

"You sure you ain't seen this before, Alice?" M.M. asked, looking at the baby so anxiously that I nodded.

"I was _just_ a Supe handler. Didn't think they're cooking up some baby laboratory shit downtown. I didn't even think they could do it what with all the shit they've already done. And that's saying a fuck ton." Isn't that too bad? No? To be able to sit here, knowing this was happening behind the curtains, right under my fucking nose. To know that I've endured a lot of shit for this company to find this out.

My inner _good cop_ is screaming her ass off.

"Okay, easy with that. You get some air in there, you could kill the kid." M.M. mused as Butcher screwed away the Compound V.

"Well, wouldn't that be a crying shame?" I flipped him off as he darted his eyes quickly at me. "Let's bugger off." He held his hands out to me for some _hilarious_ reason that I didn't quite get when—the doors bolted open and I was welcomed with guns pointed right at my face.

"Shit?" Butcher pulled me away instantly my vision circled for a moment there, hearing gunshots come off behind us while I was snuggly hiding on the comforts of a thick slab division. Too bad for us, only M.M. managed to be ready at this situation while I only have an empty flask and Butcher has a Compound V I doubt he'd drink just to Supe us out of here.

"Sunshine, sit tight. M.M., keep them busy!" Butcher barked out orders that I was happy to obliged, taking a mental reminder to bring my gun next time and be actually ready for whenever the situation calls for trouble—which would be a lot now that we're confronted with the dirt of VOUGHT little by little.

He hoisted away from the slab while I was peeking over the side. Watching but couldn't see what he was doing, and also being shot at that I got pissed off for almost losing an eye. "What are the odds of my flask reaching the opponent, M.M.?"

"What?" He asked, incredulously to me while he reloaded.

"Well—" I was about to take my chances on throwing out my silver flask when Butcher appeared once more, being swung by my arms that hit his forehead—loud. "Oops."

"I'll fuckin' deal with _you_ later." He murmured seethingly while I keep my arms within my body. Watching him pull out a cord that when my eyes followed—I was appaled.

No, appalled would not fit what he's done.

"Butcher, no!"

Slowly, he opened the ventilator, carefully hoisting the baby up that I almost shook his head once more to make him think about what he's actually going to do. And if that's not enough, Billy Butcher smirked at me so wide I had to blink a few more times to make sure he still was—and the minute I did, I watch him hold the baby carefully in his large hands and shook it for a little bit.

Just enough to emit the laser force towards our _very_ unlucky opponents.

And it didn't even take a full minute for the baby to eliminate the three of them. "Holy shit." I managed to mutter, keeping my body away from the baby's vision if I wanted to get home with complete set of limbs.

"That was diabolical!"

"Please bring the baby back now. Please." M.M. exasperated as we skipped over the blood pooling down at the marbled tiles, making sure the baby's eyesight was away from us as he set it back down to the ventilator without sticking the IV back up in my vehement refusal. I didn't think I could stomach doing that to such a bundle of joy that saved us.

He was like—a _baby_ Homelander. Though dearly _and_ desperately hoping he's not as evil as that _motherfucker_.

"Now, you keep your nose clean, sunshine. Or I'll come back and stomp you." He smiled, the first I ever saw it so genuine without a hint of anger for the world that I was taken aback. Thinking he's another person again. Like how I've been looking at him recently. Just... different. And this time, I was so sure I was fucked.

I was _sooooo_ fucked when Butcher looked at me then and I knew—I was gonna be in a lot of fuckin' trouble for letting myself _fall_ for a wicked asshole.


End file.
